


Baby, I’m Preying on You Tonight

by cuttlemefish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, M/M, Pet Shop AU, SSDHop AU, Undercover Missions, animal rights activist phichit chulanont, becoming a family of animal rescuing super heroes with babies, oblivious flirt yuuri katsuki, pet shop owner yuuri katsuki, phichit chulanont is the best friend in fictional history, toddler twins, trash fic is trash, viknik biz fic, viktor's pink cadillac
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10801671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuttlemefish/pseuds/cuttlemefish
Summary: Yuuri and Phichit registered and named the pet shop when they were drunk. They didn’t exactly expect it to become the most popular pet shop in Seattle. (It was only supposed to be a front to fund Phichit’s (undercover) animal rescue missions.) Enter Viktor Nikiforov, the man with the pink Cadillac and the giant brown poodle (that's stolen Yuuri's heart), and Yuuri might have lost his mind, because apparently he keeps flirting with a client – and he never even notices.





	1. SSDHop Inc.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize. I have no words. None. Not much happens in this chapter, but, trust me, the ride is crazy.  
> /hides

Yuuri and Phichit named the pet shop while drunk, which meant that their shoe-string budget operation somehow managed to invest on a light-up sign that read (mysteriously) SSDHop Inc. Yuuri is always a little ashamed to confess to customers that the name came later: Something Super Darling (that) Hop(s) Inc. It was the only thing they could come up with to make sense of SSDHop, which was truly inspired by cheap (burn-your-throat) vodka and boxed wine. Phichit is better at selling the name: “The _that_ and _s_ are silent,” he’ll say with a wink before dumping pounds of gourmet bunny food into a fancy paper bag with a logo showing three smiling, cartoonish hamster faces.

Yuuri never exactly pegged himself as a future pet shop owner, but Phichit had come to Yuuri with numbers. Apparently, numbers were the fastest way of sending Yuuri's mind spinning long enough to get him to accept to ridiculous ideas, including this very profitable one. 

The bunny market was through the roof: Children’s parties; Easter festivals; magician shows; classroom pets; and all those people that thought something that fit in a cage and ate hay could easily introduce them to a live of pet ownership. (Not that Yuuri wanted to be dismissive of bunnies in any way.) Apparently, the numbers had been wrong (off by several thousand dollars), and so it was that Yuuri and Phichit ended up with the most successful pet shop in Seattle, catering to a special clientele looking to buy homemade dog biscuits, imported organic pet chews, professional grooming spa services (courtesy of Phichit, because Yuuri still never knew how to match a bandanna to a dog’s quixotic "style essence"), and exotic lizards, tropical fish, and the occasional chinchilla. But at the heart of their business was always their high-quality, specialty breed bunnies (and hamsters, because they were Phichit’s first love, but, really, Yuuri wasn’t about to bring up the whole hamsters-don’t-pay-the-bills talk again.)

A pink Cadillac pulls up to the front of the store while Yuuri is mulling over the intricate turns his life has taken on the (pretty smooth, actually,) trek to success. Somewhere along the way things veered a little too close to the proverbial cliff of bad-life-choices – like the time he went undercover as a pole dancer to save that baby ocelot from the mafia, because, _thanks_ , Phichit, for not hiring an actual pole dancer despite including one in the plan – but so far he’s managed to stay safe dancing on the edge. Who knows for how long he can manage, despite his amazing balance.

Out of the Cadillac, a standard brown poodle (an absolutely dream-like specimen of the breed) comes bounding towards the store, completely ignoring who Yuuri assumes is the (potential sugar baby) owner (or a really expensive dog walker, because Yuuri can never be sure with their clientele anymore).

It’s like everything is moving in slow motion, then. The platinum-haired man steps out, hair swept back as he pushes his Raybans higher up the bridge of his nose and follows the dog into the store.

(Later, Yuuri will rewind this moment in his mind and wonder if it had been a particularly windy day, because he swears he did _not_ imagine the client's shirt being blown back by a hidden fan. Or, really, he has to have imagined it. Buttons don’t magically pop open only to disappear altogether. The client had been wearing a t-shirt, not a button-up.)

In the corner, Vicchan opens one eye from his giant pillow-bed, judging both newcomers before sniffing and falling back to sleep. Yuuri wonders when his sweet, adorable poodle became such a prince and then remembers that it might have to do with Phichit giving him a job: Lead Merchandise Taste Tester. It was around the same time when Yuuri became COO and Phichit became CEO.  Apparently, money changes people, and dogs, especially if they’re getting paid in dog biscuits and chew bones.

“Welcome to SSDHop, where rabbit food is more than just lettuce and carrots,” Yuuri beams the moment he hears the bell ring, not once faltering in carrying a small hamster cage to a corner of the room. “You looking for something in particular?” he asks, noticing that the client has stopped to admire the baby bunnies in the special display case. The bunnies are their newest batch and probably the cutest yet. One has already been set aside for delivery to a Pennsylvania Senator. 

Phichit had designed the display himself: Real grass, carefully planted and designed to grow easily under specialty lights bringing attention to the chubby contours of bunnies sleeping on miniature blankets and perfectly assorted packs of hay. He was very proud of it, as well as of the tiny bow ties each rabbit wore throughout its stay at SSDHop, which wasn’t long with the store’s reputation – especially after teen heartthrob Leo de la Iglesia had purchased two bunnies and sent first-class tickets for the rabbits to be delivered to him to New York City in style.  

(Yuuri threw in some cute bunny sunglasses for free for that sale. Their numbers on Instagram went through the roof.)

“Ah, yes, actually!”

Yuuri is accosted by a bright heart-shaped grin directed straight at him. It’s a little unfair. _That thing needs a warning label_ , he thinks, trying not to shuffle his feet as he waits for the client to finish.

“I’m looking for some chew bones, maybe a couple bully sticks for Makkachin,” he beams. Then, he steps forward, stretching out a hand (and god, it is so soft, like silk, or velvet, or some delicious fabric that would feel so nice running over Yuuri’s skin, like this stranger’s hand,) “I’m Viktor, just moved to the neighborhood, so we’re neighbors! Someone said this was the best pet shop in the entire city, so I had to come take a look.”

Yuuri smiles innocently, “Well, we appreciate your business. You’ve, uh, got a nice grip there. You must work out, huh?”

 _What did I just say?_ He panics internally, already turning mechanically towards the giant wall of imported dog treats from around the world.

“Actually,” Viktor smirks, his mouth inching up like an invitation to come-hither (and Yuuri would be more than happy to come for this stranger any time), “I do work out. I imagine you do as well ( _from the way you’re coming on so strong_ ).”

“What makes you say that?” Yuuri gulps, already picking out their best seller. Viktor looks like he’s about to say something more, but Yuuri takes over the conversation like a sales pro. “This is our best seller, our organic venison is a big favorite for chews, or you could consider our specialty cut bones, comes in three sizes, starting with medium. We find that our customers like it big. The bigger the better! I guess that's what makes it a treat!”

Viktor takes the bone (watching with a developing blush as their hands touch over the length of the extra-large bone), arching an eyebrow, and if he takes a step closer to Yuuri’s space, Yuuri fails (or pretends) not to notice (because, seriously, this guy smells so good): “Oh? – You ask your customers for their preferences often?”

Yuuri blinks, taking a tentative step back, “Oh, yeah. All the time. We even invite our best customers to special release parties and everything. You should come.” And Viktor’s face goes slack with surprise, until Yuuri points towards the cash register. “We have flyers about it. People bring their dogs, cats, exotic pets. We keep a database and invite customers to try some of our new products. It’s a very popular monthly event in the city.”

“Oh,” Viktor deadpans, blinking like he’s just been slapped. He clutches the bone tight to his chest. “Well,” he recovers, “maybe I’ll sign up, see you again sometime…”

Yuuri smiles brightly, “oh, definitely! I’d love to see you again!”

Viktor gives him another large smile, like Yuuri just gave him a free bunny (even if they would never give away priced merchandise). He wanders over to the cash register, already plucking pen and paper to write his information and smoothly slip it into the comments box with a flourish: “Yeah? Well, then, let me just write down my information over here and I’ll wait to hear from you—”

“—I own the shop so I’m always at the events. It’s always nice to see our customers.”

And Viktor can’t even salvage his pride as he opens the box and begins to search for the piece of paper in which he just wrote his phone number with big giant hearts instead of zeroes. Yuuri watches him confused, but seems to accept his reaction as normal when Viktor says, “Oh, just hit me that I wrote down my _old_ phone number. Silly me, ha-ha.”

Yuuri just keeps smiling that unshakeable retail smile, probably trademarked and nurtured through years of successful interactions with the public (and Viktor has to wonder if, maybe, this is all part of some twisted business strategy in which cute shop sales boys, nay, shop owners shamelessly flirt with their customers for profit).

Viktor decides this can't be an accident: Yuuri is savage when he rings up the chew bone and simply says, “So, cash, debit, or credit?”

And Viktor can only chew on his bottom lip as he pulls out his wallet, "Uh, cash."

**TBC**


	2. Frequent Buyer Miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor Nikiforov spends his afternoons (shamelessly) pining for Yuuri Katsuki's perfect ass behind the store's aquariums and, in his attempt to become SSDHop's top customer, amasses a collection of useless items that may just make him a new hamster owner. But at least Viktor scores a date. Sort of. #SavageYuuri2k17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all actually read this and subscribed and... what? I love you all so much. Here, have more. <3
> 
> Also, I'm over at CuttleMeFishWrites.tumblr.com. Come hang out anytime.
> 
> This chapter has had some edits for some, well, much needed minor edits and for some added sentences (or at least a paragraph's worth sprinkled everywhere) to fix some unnoticed repetition and things just bothering me. Please ignore and accept my apologies if you were alerted. I need to read an AO3 guide to figure out how the whole platform works.

Yuuri Katsuki seemed to have a talent for bending down, which wasn't exactly a skill, but made for very entertaining afternoons pretending to peruse through SSDHop's vast collection of designer hamster clothing and dog treats. Thankfully for Viktor, there were also a few tropical fish in some custom-made aquariums that made for perfect pretend-distractions (through which Viktor could shamelessly pretend to be cooing at fish while keeping an excellent, clear view of Yuuri's ass in faded blue-jeans). (He couldn't exactly spend all afternoon looking at a single wall.) It was a brilliant strategy until Viktor ran out of aquariums. There was a limit to how many could squeeze into a single shelf.

"You finding what you need?" Yuuri asks in between grunts, lifting another heavy bag of bunny feed. In the last half-hour, Viktor is pretty sure Yuuri has been lifting the _same_ bag from one spot to another. Before, he'd been squatting with the same hamster cage, deciding between middle shelf and top shelf - a decision that was critical to Phichit's store design. Both - feed duty and decoration hour - so far had been a religious experience for Viktor, who had a very definitive and special preference for the squats.

"Oh, yeah, doing fine," Viktor smiles and, having moved to the book section now, lifts his copy of _Pet Diaries: Poodle Edition, Volume I_. He has to admit that SSDHop has an impressive collection of books for the serious pet owner.

Makkachin whines by his pant leg, trying to remind him that they should be going for a walk to the dog park. (By default, Viktor feels like a _not serious_ pet owner. He wonders if Yuuri is silently judging him.)

Vicchan, as Viktor has come to know the miniature poodle in the corner, stares at them both with a modicum of curiosity this time. His ears are perked and his head is tilted, making him look more like a toy than usual. 

Viktor wonders if the look is meant to betray sympathy or confusion. 

He's never _not_ seen Vicchan pondering the perks of his life as the face of a famous pet shop, all while relaxing on a mountain of pillows and blankets. The more the poodle stares, the more Viktor is sure Vicchan knows the secret lust he harbors for his owner. (Not that he hasn't been told that people can see it from space, like a nebulous cloud of needy want.) The poodle is definitely judging him.

"You think you guys will ever get Volume II?"

Viktor has been trying to make conversation - _proper conversation_ \- for the last half hour. It's not working out well for him at all. It's a little embarrassing how little game he has when it comes to Yuuri Katsuki.

"Hm, I think we've been trying to get a few copies in again, but each time we do, we run out so quickly. It's probably only going to get harder: Phichit recently decided we should enter the e-commerce business. I mean, we were sort of online before, but it was more, like, an informational website," he explains, pushing his glasses higher and making his eyes look even larger as they settle on Viktor. "Phichit says we have to stay current, find all the latest trends. And everyone's getting an online store."

(For all that Yuuri mentions Phichit, he has yet to meet Phichit. It's unnerving.)

Viktor nods, not exactly sure how he managed to accidentally enter a substantive conversation with Yuuri Katsuki, the same man that often manages to make cheesy pick-up-lines ( _"Hey Viktor, good to see you! It's not very nice out there, is it? -- It's no wonder the sky is all grey today, all the blue was in your eyes!"_ ) feel like butter gliding over toast (not that Viktor eats toast, ever). It's an impressive talent that Yuuri can make Viktor shake with pent up desire in just five minutes ( _"Oh, sorry, I think I accidentally sent you an emoji of a hot dog on Snapchat. I meant to send the dog. Phichit said it was fine since we agreed you were a dog_ (Viktor had the dog filter on) _, but also hot! Oh my god, did I really just say that?"_ ). Now, Yuuri's having him wreck his brain for something to actually say, something smart (because Viktor is smart, thanks, Chris).

"Where are you going to keep the extra stock?" he asks, looking around. The store is nice. It's eclectic and fun, just like he'd imagine a famous pet shop should look - nevermind that this is the _first_ famous pet shop he's entered. But SSDHop is also small, considering its reputation and profitability. Viktor naturally wonders where they think they could fit hundreds of storage items to sell online. "You realize people are going to be all over you guys once your online store opens. Everyone wants to get some of your products. They sell for double the price on Ebay."

Yuuri flushes, running a hand over the sleeve of his sweater to pull it down by the hem.

"Yeah, Phichit noticed that. I'm still so shocked that people actually want to buy stuff from us that badly that our neighbors can make businesses out of our business," he smiles faintly. "But it's nice. We're grateful. It pays the bills."

"I'm sure it does more than just that," Viktor smiles, a little enamored of the light upwards tug at the corner of Yuuri's lip. Yuuri doesn't exactly have dimples, but he has a mild dip that calls attention to his round, high-cheekbones, and it reminds Viktor (too often) of how pretty and soft Yuuri is -- despite his savage ability to sell anyone anything.

(Viktor is still convinced tight pants are a market strategy.

Yuuri has joked before that it's less a business tool and more a happy accident, since he can't seem to stop cooking comfort food, mostly in the form of katsudon. Apparently, katsudon -- a pork cutlet bowl -- is Yuuri's favorite meal.

Shortly after Yuuri tells him as much, it becomes Viktor's new favorite meal, too. The pictures he finds on Google look enticing enough that he finds the closest Japanese restaurant and goes to town on the menu.)

"We've been very lucky to find the right market at the right time. And to have really great neighbors, too," Yuuri gives him a wink.

_Aha! There it is_ , Viktor thinks, _the hook_.

Because this is how it typically goes: Yuuri will make light conversation, then throw _something_ out, typically a nice compliment or a soft word that makes Viktor sure Yuuri wants into his pants (ahem, heart). Shortly after, though, Yuuri will retract his flirting, like a reel, sending Viktor flopping back, grasping for air like a fish out of water. Typically, Yuuri will add one more phrase, another sentence, and all of it will help Viktor piece together that Yuuri may just not be interested. 

He’s been going through continuous heartbreak for five days now. On day three, he at least got access to the store’s Snapchat handle, which mostly Phichit manages. (He's still been following it indiscriminately.) The fact that Yuuri was the one commenting on Viktor’s pictures, though, gave him hope it didn't need to be just business, even if Yuuri was mostly only commenting on pictures of Makkachin.

"Yeah? Just great?" Viktor fishes, running his fingers down the spines of the books.

"No, they’re also friendly, cordial, sweet, helpful, supportive. We really love our neighbors. SSDHop is a community business," Yuuri returns to his job stocking the shelves. Eventually, he offers: "Want me to ring those up for you?"

Viktor looks at his basket. He nods numbly, stopping by the cash register. As he goes, he makes eye contact with a pretty, blue Betta fish flipping its long tail as it turns a corner around a bedazzled castle.

"Cash?" Yuuri asks, per usual.

"Uh, no, debit this time," Viktor says, hoping Yuuri doesn't now think Viktor is broke.

(Even if he is, slowly, going broke. SSDHop is not cheap.)

"You know," Yuuri smiles, taking the items from Viktor's hands. Their fingers graze for just a moment, "you're quickly becoming our best customer, Viktor. You've probably already bought more this week than 98 percent of our regulars."

"Really?" Viktor beams, feeling almost proud. It’s not exactly a compliment (like the ones Yuuri has made about his eyes or his smile or his feet – _okay, his shoes, whatever, Chris_ ,) but it’s enough. It’s also considerate, given that Viktor is about to spend fifty dollars on items he doesn’t need, including a no-tears-coconut-oil-puppy-shampoo. Viktor already gives Makkachin raw, organic, coconut oil treatments. Specialty shampoos are for lazy people. "Is there a prize?"

(Makkachin whines again, already starting to sniff at the pee pad in the corner of the room. Perfect, now his dog is also desperate for relief. Viktor is sure the universe is laughing at him.

Vicchan stares, probably curious to know if _the peasant dog_ is really thinking about using his pee pad. Viktor feels almost offended for Makkachin, until Vicchan does the unthinkable and paws his way down from his comfortable pillow palace to nudge Makkachin towards the pad. Maybe there is such a thing as dog solidarity. It’s right up there with Viktor’s longheld belief in a pet heaven.)

Yuuri chuckles, "not currently, but." He pauses, worrying at his bottom lip, and Viktor follows the sheen growing over his pink lips. "Let me think about it. Maybe we can figure out a prize to give you."

(And Viktor knows Yuuri didn’t purr out the words, but he chooses to dream. After all, he's been fantasizing about Yuuri for a very long, difficult, insufferingly _hard_ week.)

Viktor blindly reaches for the first thing to his left, completely lovedrunk as he says, "Oh yeah? Well, then let me help you make the decision easier: Add this to my bill, too?"

Yuuri arches an eyebrow, chuckling sweetly as he rings up the item.

"Sure, Viktor. Getting a hamster, are you?"

Viktor blinks, then finally notices that he had reached for a hamster hat. It's an adorable little top hat with a very red rose, but it’s another useless item to add to the pile growing in his living room. Yet, tempted by the promise of even becoming the store's best customer, he genuinely considers reaching for even more hamster hats. He chuckles nervously, "Uh, Not today. But next time? – You should totally show me all the adorable pudgy hamsters next time."

And Yuuri nods, eyes shining, “it’s a date.”

**TBC**


	3. The JJs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the chapter in which Viktor discovers SSDHop Inc. is having Hamster Day, the day when they sell hamsters more than bunnies, thanks to the assistance of an adorable set of twin baby boys dressed in hamster costumes. Or, meet Jesse and Joey Katsuki, Yuuri Katsuki’s 22-month-old twins – who seem to be obsessed with saying Daddy and Vicchan. Oh, and a wild Phichit appears! #RIPVikNik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a note, I'm pretty much only on this ride for as long as you’re in. So, in case you all haven’t noticed, this labor of love is also a labor that abides by a simple rule: Everything goes! If ever you needed an incentive to drop hilarious or inspired comments, don’t be surprised if suddenly Viktor does kiss Yuuri over the cash register or shows up naked at the store. No promises. But everything goes, so expect everything. 
> 
> I’m on Tumblr: cuttlemefishwrites.tumblr.com. I do take prompts. I fawn over everyone. Someday I will write quality fic (and I promise I can actually write things). That day is not today. But I hope you enjoy the ride, anyway.

Viktor’s heart breaks the moment he comes into SSDHop and finds that Yuuri is talking animatedly to another customer. Emil Nekola runs the neighborhood farmer’s market. He’s well known and likeable and, like Viktor, he owns an apartment right across from the shop. As far as Viktor knows, Emil doesn’t own a pet, which is how he defaults to thinking the _absolute_ worst. Emil must be here for Yuuri.

(In reality, Emil is perhaps one of the only people there to actually buy a pet.)

Following his usual routine, Viktor leads Makkachin towards the snack wall. Makkachin is starting to put on some pounds. Viktor instinctively knows that as a good pet owner, he should stop feeding her treats by the truckload – organic or not. But without Makkachin, he has no purpose to come into the store. That’s why the idea of the hamster is excellent. _It’s a date_ , Yuuri had said. And now Viktor was here to collect, wearing his finest blue jeans to not come off as too desperate. Apparently, desperate defined a lot other people.

Viktor notices that a giant banner behind the register counter reads _Hamster Day_. Maybe, just maybe, people are here for the hamsters. But Yuuri has his hair slicked back and seems to be wearing contacts instead of his usual (adorable) glasses, so Viktor's pretty sure that, like him, almost everyone in the store is here for the show. It's still surprising: SSDHop is typically empty. Usually, it’s just Yuuri and Viktor. Alone. Viktor had started to wonder _how_ SSDHop was making ends meet. He doesn’t have to wonder anymore. There’s a group of young women cooing over the bunnies, even as they keep glancing over their shoulders at Emil and Yuuri before falling into peels of High School-like giggles. A few other people are admiring the more exotic fish, birds, and reptiles. But Viktor knows the fish tank trick -- they're such high-quality and so clean, that it is easy to use them as a front to ogle Yuuri. But, today, the hamster wall is the real show. Yuuri is only standing by that wall. 

“Hey, welcome to SSDHop, home of the Happy Hamster.”

Viktor looks up, surprised to find a short young man with tan skin and dark hair standing in front of him. His name tag reads Phichit.

Viktor gasps in amazement, clasping his hands together, “You’re Phichit!” 

Phichit blinks, taken aback by the reaction, “That is me. Yes. I am Phichit. Who are _you_?”

“Oh, I’m Viktor. This is my dog Makkachin,” he introduces himself, hoping to make a good impression. Viktor has heard nothing about Yuuri’s personal life. Since their whole courtship (shut up, Chris, it is not _just_ in Viktor's head,) has so far been in the confines of the shop, it’s left an underlying sense of businesslike professionalism to the entire ordeal. Phichit, as Yuuri’s business partner, might as well be the equivalent of Yuuri’s father – and Viktor is determined to earn Yuuri’s hand in marriage. Or, at least a date. First a date, definitely.

“So, you’re Viktor,” Phichit grins, “I’ve heard so much about your poodle. Apparently, it’s, like, a perfect specimen of the breed. You’re also practically single-handedly funding Vicchan’s salary, so we like you here. What can I help you with? Today is hamster day, can I interest you in one of our deluxe editions?”

“Actually, Yuuri said he’d help me find a hamster, so—”

“Great! Let me help, then!”

“Ah,” Viktor looked over to the corner, where Yuuri was now holding a tiny hamster in his palms, slowly transferring it onto Emil's cupped palms and touching his hands delicately to show him how to handle his potential future pet. “I can just wait. I need a few more items anyway.”

“Okay, suit yourself, but Yuuri might be a while,” Phichit pointed towards a group of people picking at random shelf items. “There’s an unofficial line. But, who knows, maybe as our best customer, he’ll make an except – _oh my babies!_ Yuuri, look at your sons. They’re perfect.”

“The JJ’s are here! Joey and Jesse Katsuki in the house!”

Viktor turns to see a boisterous young man with dark blue eyes and black hair styled in an undercut. He walks in hand-in-hand with a bobbed brunette – gorgeous with red lips and a lithe figure. Both walk behind a set of shuffling toddlers holding hands and dressed in hamster costumes. The hats -- which, he supposes, should be the hamster heads -- are particularly large and Viktor questions how they don't just toppled over from the weight of round ears and beady eyes, or just from the cuteness alone. The element of persuasion hits an all-time high then as customers stop to ogle at the two little ones entering the pet shop.

 _Katsuki?_ He thinks.  _As in, Yuuri Katsuki has children?_

“Oh my god, they’re tiny Yuuris,” Viktor gapes, shocked by the sight of two babies with perfectly round cheeks and huge, warm brown eyes. They are exact replicas of Yuuri. It was impossible not to see the family resemblance, even if their names had not given them away. They wave with their tiny hands, giving toothy smiles as they said their hellos. And Viktor knew then that he was fading fast, because he’d feared a lot of things, but not the possibility of Yuuri being _married_ with kids (though he’d checked Yuuri’s hands multiple times for a ring only to thankfully find none).

“Thanks for taking them to lunch, guys!” Phichit grins, already taking the twins – perfectly identical, right down to their cute little dimples – further into the shop. Viktor could still see from the corner of his eye as Yuuri slowly ripped his attention away from Emil towards the kids. “Hope they weren’t too much trouble, Izzy. J.J., you better not have gelled their hair back again. I _will_ cut you. Babies shouldn’t look like they’re about to pledge Sigma Phi.”

“Isabella washed it all off when she took them to the bathroom to clean their faces. It’s like they eat with their whole face,” J.J. responds, shrugging as he reaches to pick up the nearest twin to throw him high in the air.

Viktor notices that Yuuri has blanched, not missing a beat as he excuses himself rapidly to take the baby from J.J.’s hands."

“Wee!” the baby squeals, laughing as he comes down, and then, Viktor’s heart explodes when he hears: “Daddy!”

Yuuri smiles softly, eyes betraying every single ounce of love in his heart, “Joey-chan.”

(And Vikor knows he's officially dead. Apparently, the only thing more attractive than smooth-talking Yuuri Katsuki is a cooing Yuuri Katsuki with a miniature Yuuri Katsuki in his arms.)

The other twin seems only too happy to make his presence known as he wraps his arms around Yuuri’s leg, “Daddy, hi!”

Yuuri laughs, saying all the while, “Jesse, hi, baby. Are you a hamster? Are you a happy hamster?”

“Yes!” Jesse cheers, already turning to the wall of hamsters. “I say hi to hammies!”

“Okay, say hi to the hamsters so they’ll be happy hamsters and find good homes,” Yuuri nods, watching as Phichit follows behind Jesse to the hamster wall. The little boy was fast for having such short legs.

He stops along the way, pausing by Viktor to study him. Viktor feels like he's being taken apart, piece by piece. 

“Hello,” Viktor offers, still amazed at the power of genetics. "I'm Viktor. Who are you?"

“Hi,” Jesse gaps, obviously staring at Viktor’s unusual hair color. His little hands fall on the giant hamster hat resting on his head. “Hi,” he tries again, but doesn't even consider giving his name. Viktor imagines he must be used to everyone in the store knowing exactly who he is, being the son of the owner. “Buy hammie?" the little boy says, "Buy hammie, get hug.”

Viktor blinks, confused. Was the child really implying that if he bought a hamster, he’d get a hug?

“Hug?” Viktor asks, deciding that's his best option. 

Jesse stretches out his arms, bumping against Viktor’s legs. Tiny arms wrap around his knees and Viktor questions how he got so lucky in life.

“Hug,” Jesse repeata, looking up at Viktor with a set of familiar, big brown eyes. The twins had obviously inherited Yuuri’s long eyelashes. They would certainly destroy hearts someday, just like their father.  

Viktor melts, only becoming an actual puddle when the second twin declares, “I say hi to Vicchan!” and then, along the way, squeals on seeing Makkachin. Viktor watched with intense fascination as Joey Katsuki threw himself at the poodle, exclaiming with the brightest smile Viktor had ever seen, “Big Vicchan!” It only got better when Prince Vicchan of SSDHop pawed his way over, for once acting like an actual dog, as opposed to a brand, and licked his young master's face, who then tried to hug both poodles, still amazed that there was now both: “Small Vicchan and big Vicchan!”

“Yuuri, they’re yours?” Viktor asks (finally coming off the haze of overwhelming love), heart-shaped smile growing wider by the second. “How old are they?”

“Ah, yeah,” Yuuri scratches at the back of his neck, looking almost shy as he admits, “They’ll be two in a couple of months. They usually stay home with Phichit, but we bring in the whole team for Hamster Day, mostly because Jesse is just as obsessed with hamsters as his Uncle Phichit.”

And that was exactly how Viktor ended up sandwiched between a set of twins by the hamster wall, still stewing over the fact that Yuuri wasn’t even paying attention to him, only periodically glancing his way to keep tabs on his twins – which made sense. Yuuri was an excellent father, giving his children space to roam and explore without missing a beat whenever they got too close to a customer. Customers were allowed to coo at the hamster representatives and a hug for buying a hamster was fine _if_ Jesse or Joey offered, but, otherwise, the twins had a pretty vicious bodyguard in Vicchan. Makkachin seemed to have joined on the fun as well, keeping them steady by pushing and pulling along with her nose as necessary.

But it seemed both Phichit and Yuuri had decided Viktor was safe. Viktor was not about to betray that trust.

Emil might have had Yuuri’s attention, racking up hundreds of dollars on hamster items, but Viktor had full access to the Katsuki twins. He couldn’t exactly complain. They were adorable mini-versions of their father. But Viktor had to admit he was curious as to the twins’ background. So far, he knew Jesse was the walker – a little lightning bolt gone one second if you didn’t keep a close eye on him, just waiting to pounce on someone like a hugging-bomb. Joey, on the other hand, liked to be carried. He didn’t wander, but he talked as much as his short vocabulary would let him.

A quick Google search taught Viktor that was somewhere around 100 words at their age. He immediately proceeded to pat himself on the back for being a good potential father and doing research.

(The twins’ origin was not a mystery for long, though. Not when _Uncwe J.J._ came over to give the kids their sippy cups and said: “Tube babies. I can see the question mark on your face from over there. I guess Yuuri decided a long time ago he wasn’t gonna have a partner, so here we are three years later with twins. He went in for one; surrogate popped out two. Phichit keeps them at home. Izzy and I help when we can. And the rest is history.”)

“Okay, so which one should I get?” Viktor finally asks the boys, amazed at how many hamsters were left, even after the selling marathon.

“That one! Vicchan-two!”

“That one! Vicchan!”

(Viktor didn’t fully understand if it was normal speech pathology for the twins to be so enamored of using the word Vicchan, but he couldn’t deny it was convenient. Just like their dog, Viktor was also named, well, Victor. Only with a _k_. But babies didn’t exactly need that level of granular differentiation.)

They point in completely different directions at the exact same time. And so Viktor ends up with two hamsters: Vicchan II and Yuuri Junior (but, really, it was almost Vicchan III). For his trouble (and shilling out close to $250 dollars,) he gets hugs. Up to that point, Viktor had never exactly thought about kids, but now, holding the warm weight of two small Katsuki babies, both smelling like fresh baby powder, well, he rethinks his entire life strategy.  

His apartment _does_ have three bedrooms, two of which he didn’t know what to do with until today, considering it was just him and a dog. Now, the purchase feels almost like fate instead of a really good real estate deal. Granted, the boys would probably share a nursery room for a while, but once they grew into little people, they would each be able to have their own room.

“This hammie!” Jesse tugs at Viktor’s hand, showing him an adorable strawberry blond hamster with soft, round little eyes. “Pwease? Needs home.”

And Viktor was screwed, because how was he supposed to say no to a pair of big brown eyes begging him to give an adorable fur ball a home? – Viktor groans, extending out his hand as he looked up to Phichit and said, “okay, give me that one, too.” – And so Viktor became the owner of Viktor Junior.

“Cute hammie. Daddy! Look, cute hammie,” Joey presses a tiny palm against a window, trying to get Yuuri’s attention. By then, it seemed Yuuri was finally moving onto another customer. He beams at his son, walking over to join them, and suddenly $375 on hamsters doesn't feel like a wasted effort – not if it earns Viktor his future family.

“Ah, I see it. It is very cute, isn’t it? That’s Lovechild, because it has a heart-shaped white spot on its back. You see that, baby boy? – Come here, Jesse, you can see it, too.”

Viktor blinks, confused, “wait, they have names?”

Yuuri chuckles, nodding, “Yeah. We have a giant binder over there with all their stats and characteristics. They’re designer hamsters. Have you just been picking them at random?”

“No,” Viktor confesses. “I’ve been having your twins bribe me with hugs to let them pick at random. Let me guess, you have them all memorized?”

“No way!” Yuuri laughs, “I just know that one because it’s my favorite. Hopefully he’ll get a good home. I’d be sad to see just anyone take him. But it seems I got to one of my best customers too late.” He winks at Viktor, saying, “you’ve found your threesome, it seems.”

And that was how Viktor bought his fourth hamster. He would never admit he bought Lovechild because Yuuri Katsuki, beautiful mess of a man, had winked at him and dared imply he was only _one_ of his best customers. Credit card debt be damned. Viktor Nikiforov was not about to become second-best to anyone, not when it came to SSDHop’s Best Customer status.

(Besides, the baby hugs were worth it.)

The last trip to the cash register was, as always, eventful.  He was escorted by the boys, one holding each of his hands. It almost made the whole process of handing over his credit card just a little less painful, but only marginally. When the credit card machine makes a loud beep, Viktor jumps as one the twins simultaneously speaks up.

"Uh-oh," Joey looks at Viktor with suddenly even more expressive large brown eyes.  He shuffles in place, the hamster hat obviously heavy now that he is moving around. Viktor feared the kid was about to tip over. "Daddy, need potty."  
  
Viktor had once been told by an old teacher friend that children were like dominoes, especially the small ones. Once one wanted something and vocalized it, the others would slowly begin to follow, even if they didn’t even need anything. Viktor had to imagine twins were like special dominoes. Jesse seemed to realize then that he, too, needed to potty when his twin announced it to the entire store. Viktor looked in horror as the boys danced like penguins by his legs.  
  
Yuuri locks eyes with Viktor, excusing himself to practically jump over the counter to get to his children faster.  "Joey?" he asks, kneeling by his son. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Need potty," the little boy repeats, stretching out his arms for Yuuri to carry him. Next to his brother, Jesse does the same.  
  
"Me too! Potty, pwease," he demands. And Yuuri looks down at his sons with a look that, Viktor was sure, was trying to calculate how he would carry them both.  
  
"Uh, guys, where is Uncle Phichit?"  
  
"Uncwe Chitty!" Jesse calls, adorable baby voice lilting near the ends. "Uncwe Ph--chitty!"  
  
The store was still incredibly full. Viktor stepped forward, picking up Joey, and the little boy cheered as he rested against Viktor’s chest.

"Come on, Yuuri, lead the way. They're not going to hold it for long. Their bladders must be the size of a cheese cube."  
  
Yuuri sighs gratefully, reaching for Jesse. He leads them to the back room, and Viktor is amazed at the sleek cleanliness of the decor, with a full kitchen room and a nice living room. In the corner, a large sign reading _Bathroom_ glows in bright red next to another one reading _Stock_.

"Thanks,” Yuuri whispers, “It was easier when they were smaller. Not to mention hamster costumes aren't exactly potty training friendly."  
  
"Uh-oh," Joey says then, looking at Viktor with a wobbly bottom lip as he pressed two soft little palms against Viktor's cheeks, pushing them close together. He laughs, "fishy lips!"  
  
Viktor laughs, mimicking fish lips like the toddler wants: "Did you have an accident, solnyshko?"  
  
Joey nods, looking down shyly, "Yes, I sowwy."  
  
"It's okay," Viktor smiles, trying to poke a tender cheek, "your Daddy will get you changed, I'm sure."  
  
"Yes. Daddy, Vicchan," Joey smiles, wrapping his arms tight around Viktor's neck. Viktor was almost sure he heard a comma in the boy’s sentence. Daddy was Yuuri. Vicchan was Viktor, who had explained that it was more than okay to call him Vicchan. Whatever was easy for the twins, considering they weren’t even two. But in the span of a few seconds, Viktor recognized the flash of recognition in the boy’s eyes, like he was connecting the dots that this was something he could say, and Viktor wasn’t sure when the decision was made _exactly_ , but he relished in the consequences. “Daddy Vicchan!” Joey announces, only too happy to rest his head on Viktor’s shoulder.

Yuuri turns around, looking horrified: “D—did he just? Oh my gosh.”

“Daddy Vicchan, is that me?”

“Yes! Daddy Vicchan!” Joey repeats. “Okay?”

“Sure, if you want,” Viktor beams, feeling an all-encompassing warmth settle in his chest.

Joey’s twin seems happy with the decision, trying it out for himself, “Daddy Vicchan!” – And in the excitement, Jesse proceeds to also have a potty accident. “Oops! Uh-oh. No make it.”  
  
"D—don’t encourage it. Oh my gosh, I am so sorry," Yuuri apologizes on behalf of his children.  “Here, they need to get changed. I, I can take them. I’m so sorry. I’ll explain they can call you Uncle Vicchan.”

“No,” Joey corrects Yuuri, holding tight to Viktor as he insists, “Daddy Vicchan! Daddy Vicchan!”

“No, stop,” Yuuri panicks, taking a step closer to try to wrap an arm around his son. “Uncle Viktor. Uncle Vicchan. Not Daddy. We don’t go calling strangers Daddy. I swear to God, I’m going to murder Phichit. He started this problem as a joke last week, teaching them to call people Daddy, but they’re never so insistent. I don’t know—”

Viktor laughs, arching an eyebrow, “Yuuri. Are you telling me you use your adorable twins to meet hot men? I’m shocked. _Scandalized_.”

Yuuri flushes a bright shade of pink, “No. I would never. I just. Here, I’m sorry we inconvenienced you. Let me just put Jesse down and I can take Joey.”  
  
Viktor shakes his head, holding the baby tighter to his chest, practically pleading, "Are you kidding? Don’t you even dare, Yuuri. Let me have my moment.”

**TBC? – We will see!**

 


	4. Fatherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Christophe G. doesn't understand Viktor's sudden obsession with nurseries and college savings plans, but really hopes Viktor's recent changes to his retirement fund won't be taken as evidence of a premeditated plan to kidnap a Katsuki twin because they most certainly didn't invite the kid to come along to the strawberry stand. Or, the chapter in which Jesse Katsuki decides he really wants two Daddies and two poodles.

Chris had always known Viktor could be an idiot. Not that he didn’t love Viktor for his best qualities, which included a face chiseled from marble, a wallet as deep as the Mariana trench, with the self-control and compulsion to match, and a beautiful dick (not that Chris had seen it up-close, just in the hot tub). Viktor was also kind and funny, even if a little aloof, and completely vulnerable to falling in love with a pole if it flirted back. Apparently, Yuuri Katsuki – “The most beautiful boy in the world!” – had thighs of steel and a sharp tongue. Viktor liked living on the edge so, obviously, he loved both. It was only a bonus that Yuuri seemed to have a talent for flirting whenever he breathed.

Viktor groaned – a pitiful sound echoing in the expansiveness of the living room. When he’d bought the three-bedroom apartment, Chris had told him he hadn’t thought things through, like why he needed so much space for one person and a dog. Apparently, after his trip to SSDHop, Viktor now knew for a fact that it was the perfect size. Chris had yet to discover exactly why, far too busy confused by the four hamsters in a cage Viktor had brought home: Viktor Junior, Yuuri Junior, Vicchan II, and Lovechild.

Chris took another swig from the open bottle of champagne they were sharing.

“They come with a manual?” Chris peers curiously over Viktor’s shoulder, amazed at the level of detail in the fifty-page booklet in his friend’s hands. It came with color-coded recommended feeding schedules and amounts; life-cycle notes; and even recommendations for HOW TO WELCOME THE NEW CREPUSCULAR ANIMAL IN YOUR LIFE. “Wait, hamsters aren’t nocturnal?” – That was news to Chris. Not that he’d ever paid attention to any other animal that wasn’t a cat.

Viktor shook the manual, “Right? Like, who knows facts like that and why? Just look at them. They’re adorable hairballs. All they do is sleep. But there’s a schedule here. A schedule for what, when they wake up in the middle of their nap for water or maybe to know just when to hand them a sunflower seed?”

“Actually, there is a recommended snack time here.” Chris could always recognize the signs when Viktor was spiraling. He was definitely spiraling, so Chris shoved the bottle of champagne into his hands: “Drink. Then breathe. No, I don’t have it backwards. You need to get drunk to justify why you decided to get four. You probably could’ve gone in and bought one hamster.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Viktor bawled, and Chris knew he was in for a long night with sloppy drunk Viktor. He reached for his cellphone, texting his boyfriend to leave his dinner in the microwave. “You don’t know what I’ve been through today. Don’t judge me. It’s been a lot. I’m not even sure I’m ready to be a father!”

“Viktor, they’re hamsters,” Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hamsters don’t have human fathers, just owners.”

“Not the hamsters, the twins, Chris. _The twins_.”

Chris studied Viktor carefully, before saying with staccato-like pauses, “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not been listening to me at all? – Joey and Jesse. The JJs. The Katsuki twins. The cutest, most adorable twin baby boys in the whole wide world. Chris, Chris, they’re, like, tiny Yuuris, only they walk like penguins and give hugs and they smell like baby powder. And their cheeks are so pudgy, and they were dressed like hamsters today because it was SSDHop’s Hamster Day.”

Chris watched as his friend slowly descended into full out sobs, hiding his face between his legs. Twin babies dressed like hamsters. This confirmed his suspicions that Yuuri Katsuki had a shrewd business mind. It wasn’t every day the neighborhood pet shop became an international business with free endorsements from the rich and the famous. Rumor had it that SSHop Inc. had even procured an anaconda for Nicki Minaj. But, babies? – It was a brilliant business strategy to use babies to sell hamsters. It was just savage to use in-house babies to do it. Chris had definitely underestimated Yuuri Katsuki.

“Okay, okay, start from the beginning,” Chris ripped the bottle from Viktor’s hand, taking a long, drawn out chug. “I don’t understand. Yuuri has twins, as in he’s married?”

“Are you not listening? Yes! Twins! – Let me show you some pictures. They like selfies a lot. And not married, thankfully. Apparently, Yuuri hired a surrogate to have them.”

“He decided to be a single dad?”

Viktor nodded, sniffling with hearts bright in his eyes, “He’s such a good dad, Chris. _Such a good dad_.”

“Yeah, sure,” Chris knits his brows together, taking Viktor’s phone to flip through pictures of Viktor with two little boys.  He had to admit they were precious – just big brown eyes full of innocence and little toothy smiles. “Now, can we start again on how you figured out he had twins?”

(Viktor had a flair for storytelling that Chris had in life, not narrative. But this story had a level of emotional tenderness that betrayed to Chris just how gone Viktor was with Yuuri, and probably how guilty he now felt he’d been lusting after a dad to twin baby boys – baby boys barely a wink away from being two years old and set on calling Viktor: _Daddy Vicchan_. Chris had to admit he was amazed Viktor had survived. Toddlers were difficult.)

“I see,” Chris hums. “So that’s why you’re so sure that the apartment is perfect now. Just a couple of days ago you were thinking of downsizing. Wait a min— _hey_! Alex canceled our date trying to figure out if there was a studio nearby. _Viktor_. I can’t believe you.”

  
“Yeah, sorry. But speaking of Alex, I need your boyfriend to look at my investments again. I mean, I’d started accounting for a plus one in my retirement plans, but not _plus three_ , not to mention I should really start to save for college. Have you _seen_ recent prices? Unbelievable. And I have to put _two_ kids through that. I don’t even know how we’re going to manage. Diapers alone probably cost a fortune! – But they’re so smart already and they’re so close to being potty trained.” Viktor continued to wax poetically about the Katsuki twins, heart-shaped grin growing larger and larger as he said, “They love animals so much, especially poodles and hamsters. I’m sure they’ll become veterinarians! – My sons, the doctors. They grow up so fast!” 

Chris arched an eyebrow, taking a long, dragged out sip from the champagne bottle before slapping Viktor upside the head to break him out of his wails. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, lover boy. Just because they’re calling you Daddy doesn’t suddenly make them yours. Besides, I’m sure their actual Dad has started working on their college and is affording diapers just fine without you, seeing as SSDHop is one of the year’s start-ups to watch.”

Viktor pouted, rubbing at his head, “You’re right, Chris. If anything, I shouldn’t pressure them. For all we know, they could grow up to become dancers or economists.”

“That was not my point.”

“But, you’ll still talk to Alex.”

Chris sighed, “yes, yes, of course I will, _mon cher_. I’ll still talk to Alex. But I will _not_ decorate a nursery for you until you put a ring on it. I have to put some boundaries on you.”

Viktor shrugs, “fine. But I’m not paying the decorator expedite fee just because you wanted to wait. The JJs are going to need a place to sleep and play and it better be fabulous. My sons deserve only the best.”

“Which they already have, Viktor. Back in their actual home.”

Viktor waved him off, half-drunk, “Semantics. A lot of kids have two homes.”

“Yes, usually the ones that come from divorced families…”

“Semantics. Two families before or after, tomato, potato—”

“That’s not how it goes at all,” Chris chuckled. “I’m cutting you off. You’re drunk, Nikiforov! – Come on, off to bed with you.”

“You’re just trying to put me to bed so you can go home and put your boyfriend to bed,” Viktor slurred, but clambered to get up and stumble towards his bedroom. He paused midway to the door, resting both hands on Chris’ shoulders to anchor him in place. “We’re still going to the farmer’s market tomorrow, right? – Can’t start on the 10 Day Green Smoothie Challenge without spinach. If we’re not there by ten, all the good spinach will be gone and then I’m going need to substitute and you know I don’t like kale.”

Chris sighed, patting his friend’s back gently, “yes, Viktor. We’ll get you spinach. Don’t worry. Just go the fuck to sleep already.”

Apparently, Viktor only pretends to go to sleep. The next morning, Chris is shocked to find Viktor looking fabulous, albeit haggard as he keeps a tight hold of a pair of expensive aviators. Next to Chris, Alex – his wonderful boyfriend and Viktor’s personal accountant, real estate agent, and financial advisor – chuckles, elbowing him gently and saying, “Told you. You owe me tacos.” And so, Chris does, in fact, now owe his boyfriend tacos for his uncanny ability to read Viktor Nikiforov like a book – and Viktor Nikiforov apparently was not going to sleep, so much as hug the champagne bottle in his bed.

“For shame,” Chris teases, helping Makkachin jump into the back of his convertible. He studies the side of Viktor’s face and doesn’t comment on how there’s visible keyboard imprints – red and angry – on his cheek. Last time Viktor was left to drink and think alone, he had spiraled enough to drink himself into oblivion and upload a video of himself coding while drunk. It’d gone viral. “How many bottles did you drink?”

Viktor winces, “Shh. Too loud. I think, like, two? I was celebrating, one for each twin. I don’t know. I lost count of how many glasses I had. I’m not even sure how I fell asleep on my keyboard.”

“Oh my god, were you coding drunk again?” Alex worries at his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. “Good thing we’re starting on this fast, then. You’re falling back into bad habits, again.”

But Viktor recovers fast. Alex begins to talk to him about potential investments and different college fund opportunities that might come in handy, if Viktor is really serious about adding two kids to his line-up of goals. Chris must admit he’s proud of his boyfriend for the gentle way in which he savagely and sagely refuses to acknowledge that Viktor is talking about the potential family in his head and, instead, steer their friend towards reality, because for all they know Viktor could end up with a husband and two point five children, minus a white picket-fence and with more dogs (and hamsters).

By the time they reach the farmer’s market, things are in full swing.

Between the three of them, they almost buy up all the spinach they can find. Alex finds some avocados, and Chris tries to pretend that he’s paying attention to his chat about good fats when he spots, in the distance, a set of familiar little faces: The twins are in the market, with who very obviously must be Yuuri Katuski. They’re joined by a third person, who Chris recognizes from SSDHop’s website as Phichit Chulanont. They’re a picture-perfect family, with Yuuri pushing a stroller with only one twin. The other twin is walking, very decisive and happy as he keeps stopping to hug a miniature poodle.

Chris has to admit the kids are adorable, dressed in a striped shirt with blue jean overalls that stop at their knees and a set of sneakers. On each of their heads is a little fedora-like tan hat, making them look less like child hipsters and more like baby city sailors.

“Would you look at that,” Chris muses out loud, making eye contact with his boyfriend before leading him and Viktor to another stall, far away. In the distance, he can hear a sweet little baby voice yell out _Vicchan_ , but he’s too busy pushing his companions towards the next row of sellers. “How could we forgot we need bananas.”

Viktor has no concept of boundaries. As his friend, Chris has to teach him some, even if he needs to use deception to do it.

(Meanwhile, by the crepes stall, Phichit Chulanont is handing over a twenty-dollar bill to buy a couple of Nutella-filled crepes for his nephew-sons, a term that made perfect sense considering that he was the stay-at-home half of the Katsuki-Chulanont platonic household. “I’m still pissed they called him _Daddy_ Vicchan. I mean, I’m the one that stays at home with them and who am I?”

By his feet, Vicchan seems equally offended that his name has been adopted by his tiny owners in reference to someone else. Phichit completely understands.

“Uncwe Chitty!” Joey cheers from the carrier, kicking his legs as he waits patiently for his crepe.

“That’s right. I stay home with them all day, feed them, play with them, dress them – because Lord knows you’d put them in lame onesies all day if you could, Yuuri, when you and I know both know those boys were made for the camera! – and I get called uncle. He buys four hamsters and takes them to the bathroom _once_ – do you know how many diapers I have changed, Yuuri? – Do you know how many times I have been scarred by the realization that, no, not everything that comes out has gone in?”

“Yummy,” Joey stretches out his little hands, wiggling his fingers when he sees a stranger walk by with a crepe. “Daddy, yummy. Uncwe Chitty, food pwease.”

“Hey,” Phichit yells, taking out his frustration on the friendly neighborhood crepe maker as he slams his money on the table. “Where’s my kid’s food? He’s starving? Do you want him to starve?”

Yuuri sighs benevolently, pushing Phichit back and apologizing.

“Vicchan!” Jesse cheers, kneeling on the ground to hug his dog. Being the more active of the two twins, he’d decided to walk, and any attempt to put him into the carrier was met with resistance. Phichit doesn’t even have to look down, hands at the ready – thanks to habit – to pull Jesse back into a standing position. “No, no,” the little boy struggles, “down, pwease. Vicchan. Vicchan, Uncwe Chitty.”

“Okay, but don’t put your knees on the ground, baby boy? – It’s icky,” Phichit corrects gently.

“Can you just put him in the stroller? There’s a lot of people now. It makes me nervous to have him walking around here.”

“Relax, Yuuri. I’ve got my eye on him. Where are these damn crepes?!”

“Phichit, calm down. Look, I know, okay? I know you do so much for them and I cannot thank you enough for all you do for us, but it’s your fault for teaching them to call strangers daddy.”

“I wouldn’t have to teach them if you’d just go on a damn date. Damn finally!” Phichit scoffs as he grabs the first finished crepe and hands it to Joey, kneeling to blow on it gently. Joey takes it happily, munching with gusto as he smears Nutella onto his chubby cheeks. “Yuuri, you’ve been asked out over fifty times in the last month and you haven’t said yes once. Someday, I’d like to be able to (“Ah, here’s your second crepe, Sir.”) – oh, thanks. Here, Jesse.”

“Wait, let me clean his hands first. He’s been touching Vicchan and the ground,” Yuuri pulls out some hand wipes only to furrow his brow when he finds that Jesse and Vicchan are no longer by Phichit’s feet. “Jesse?” he calls gently. Jesse has always been known to try to wander, but never far. “Vicchan?”

Phichit looks around as well, surprised by the amount of people fogging the area. In a matter of seconds, the farmer’s market has filled up, probably with people trying to get the best produce possible before the morning begins to wind down and the vegetable stalls are replaced with lunch options and food trucks.

“Jess!” Phichit yells, heart hammering hard at his chest as he shoves some people aside. For a toddler with short legs, Jesse is like a lightning bolt. “Jess!”

“Oh my god!” Yuuri panics, pushing the stroller with him as he tries to keep searching. “Jesse?!”)

A short while later, Chris is pleased that they’re pretty much done shopping just in time for brunch. They’re admiring a container of strawberries when Chris feels, more than hears, Viktor start next to him, just at the same time as Makkachin starts barking. And then, they hear a sweet, small little voice yell out: “Daddy Vicchan! Hi!”

Chris looks down at their legs.

Alex is the first to say anything: “Oh my god! Is that a kid?”

Right there, hugging Viktor’s leg is one of the Katsuki twins, giving his most disarming smile. Somewhere along the way, he’s lost his hat, giving a perfect view of his dark head of hair. The miniature poodle that has tagged along with him sticks close to him, nose practically digging into the bulge of his diaper, while Makkachin is too busy smelling the other poodle in greeting.

Viktor blinks, and Chris can almost read the panic on his friend’s face, because it’s not hard to discern that Yuuri Katsuki, Phichit Chulanont, and the other twin (probably safe in his carrier) are nowhere to be found, which means Chris had completely miscalculated: Of course, the baby had seen them. He should've known that even when he tried to help Viktor, everything went to hell because Viktor had an uncanny ability of attracting trouble to himself even when he was being good. 

“Uh, hey,” Viktor worries at his bottom lip. He studies the twin in front of him, letting out a tentative guess, “Jesse?”

“Hi!” Jesse repeats, still rubbing a chubby cheek against Viktor’s leg. He doesn't seem willing to confirm his name, but eagerly stretches up his arms, “Up?”

Viktor nods, plucking him seamlessly from the ground to rest high on his hip.

“Hey,” Viktor repeats, and Chris is floored by the softness lining his eyes when the baby reaches for his sunglasses to take them off and put them on his own head. Chuckling, Viktor bounces the little boy, “Those look good on you. You should keep those. Any idea where your Daddy is, solnyshko?”

“Daddy?” Jesse asks as well, beginning to finally look around, even as he keeps a steady hand on top of his head to keep the sunglasses in place. “Oh no, Daddy?” Jesse tries again, and Chris realizes then that the baby is but a second away from realizing that his dad is not around, and if he’s anything like the other kids he’s met at this age, he might be another minute away from screaming. He tenses when he hears the beginnings of a sniffle: “Daddy!”

Viktor tries to bounce Jesse in his arms, looking to Chris and Alex for help. Chris doesn't have children. It's on purpose. He steps back, shaking his head. 

“No, hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m sure your Dad’s around somewhere. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Jesse focuses all his attention on Viktor for a second before deciding to rest his head on Viktor’s shoulder, “Daddy Vicchan, okay?”

And suddenly Chris can understand why Viktor has been so adamant that he must adopt these boys. It’s only natural when they’ve already adopted him. It's obvious from the way Jesse Katsuki's tiny hand bunches up into a fist around Viktor's shirt, holding tight like he's sure this is his safest bet. On the ground, the new poodle is sniffing the ground, slowly trying to inch away back towards the crowd, and Chris wonders if it could lead them through the fog of people back to Yuuri Katsuki. 

Viktor runs a hand through soft strands of baby hair, “Sure, kiddo. I’m your Daddy Vicchan. You’re okay.”

Alex looks to Chris then and reaches for his hand to give it a gentle squeeze. It’s a tender moment, even if they all realize they’re thoroughly screwed if they can’t find the kid’s father in the next few minutes. 

**TBC...?**


	5. Missing Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor finally, finally goes for the date. Like, a real one. Apparently, running an entire market under the heat of the late morning sun is the equivalent of liquid courage. Phichit, of course, proves he's the best wing man. The best, even if he's not winning the #TeamDaddyVicchan vs. #TeamDaddyChitty competition.

(Chris grabs Viktor’s bags before Viktor can even think about handing him the child, or the dog. He looks pointedly at Viktor, unsure why they’re all still standing around when they desperately need to turn off the sign over Viktor’s head that reads potential child snatcher in bright neon red lights. (As per usual, Chris has been forced to play Jimney Cricket to Viktor’s non-existing common sense, which only seems to decline into the negatives when it involves Yuuri Katsuki.) Chris has never been paranoid, but he has never made it a secret that children are trouble, and this one is staring at him a little too intently, little arms threatening to stretch out.

When Jesse yips, “Hug?”

Chris shakes his head, taking several steps back.

The baby blinks, surprised. This must be a new development in his young live. Chris has to imagine no one has ever declined a hug.

“Hug, pwease?”

“You’re adorable. Really,” Chris declines again, “Trust me, you don’t want me. I’m trouble. Don’t give me those eyes. It’s not you. It’s me.”

Viktor arches an eyebrow, chuckling, “Chris, you’re not seriously afraid of a baby, are you?”

“This,” Chris recoils, trying to hide behind his boyfriend, “this is how they get you, Viktor. First, it’s all an innocent hug. Then, you get a whiff of that comforting baby powder smell. Next thing you know, it’s three am and you have a burrito of blankets in your arms while you’re losing valuable sleep time and gaining several hundred wrinkles. I want to live forever. No thank you.”

Vicchan yips, wagging his tail, and Chris simply wrinkles his nose.

“Sorry, I’m also a cat person.”

Viktor arches an eyebrow, “You’re fine with Makkachin.”

“Makkachin is like your child. We don’t get to pick our nieces or nephews. It’s exactly the same. Now then, can we stop wasting time on me and focus on beating Yuuri Katsuki to the missing child posters? I’d like to not have to bail you out of jail today, thanks.”)

In another part of the market, Phichit ran circles around Yuuri, looking everywhere for their missing twin. He breathed hard, hand pressed on his chest to anchor himself as he stopped by Yuuri and the stroller. "Okay, so, I really messed this one up. Yuuri, I'm so sorry, but I just gave a security guard a picture and some information and he's going to run it over the loudspeakers so if anyone finds him before we do, they'll take him to a safe location. I’m sure we’ll find him."

"Phichit, I can't believe you," Yuuri rushed through the crowds, still pushing the stroller as fast as he could with Joey cheering happily as he stuffed tiny pieces of crepe into his mouth. At least he was still calm without his twin. It wasn't often the boys were separated and, being so young, neither did well with separation for long, either. "I told you to put him in the stroller, but, no, you said you were watching him! You definitely don’t deserve Daddy Chitty now."

"Hey! I’ve taken care of the boys since day one. I’m allowed one fail, okay?” Phichit grouched, equally as concerned as Yuuri as he flipped a plastic tablecloth with printed pictures of pies over a box of plump apples to search for Jesse. For a moment, Yuuri almost believed his son might be hiding under the table. His heart deflated when he saw it was empty. Phichit shoved his head deep under the stand, shouting at the owner's legs (who stared in shock, demanding they step away from his stall), "Jesse? Baby boy, come out now. I promise to give you hamsters!"

"And Nutella," Yuuri added, about to burst into tears. His voice was breaking with every word. "Phichit, my baby. And my dog!"

"At least you had the foresight to have identical twins?" Phichit tried to joke, but it fell flat. Slowly, as they continued their search and failed, Yuuri could tell his friend was starting to panic and grow paler by the second. By the time they found Jesse’s hat on the ground, Phichit was in full panic.

"Oh my gosh, Yuuri, what do we do?” he wailed, “What if someone took him? I saw on 20/20 that child snatchers are the new drug lords. There's a thriving market for babies, and Jesse and Joey are both so cute. I know, I know, we'll call 911 and report a snatching. No, wait, first we'll call the Seattle police to report a missing child case. We'll go into the black market if we have to! – SSDHop has substantial equity now; I’m sure we can afford to follow the trail ourselves. We will find him, even if have to train hamsters to search every damn -- "

"Daddy!"

Yuuri took in a deep breath, practically eating air as he looked up to see Viktor with Jesse and Vicchan under each of his arms. "Yuuri," he whispered, hair flat with sweat as he rushed over to them all, "I've been running. All over. This market. I'm. So glad. We found you."

Jesse stretched out his little arms, fingers wiggling as he smiled brightly. "Daddy! Uncwe Chitty! I find Daddy Vicchan!"

"That you did, Jesse," Phichit ripped the kid from Viktor's hold, bouncing him high over his head before bringing him into a tight hug. Pressed close against his chest, he took a moment to breathe in the safe, familiar smell of baby powder that always followed the twins. "Don't ever do that again, young man. You hear me? I thought you were." Phichit sniffled before breaking into sobbing tears. "I thought you were gone forever. You guys come in a set. You need to stay a set forever."

"Daddy Vicchan," Joey waved, face smeared with Nutella. 

Viktor seemed to relax as he waved back, "Hey. Joey?"

"Yes!" Joey confirmed, offering his snack. "Hungwy?"

Viktor shook his head, looking every bit like he might cry, "No. But thanks."

Yuuri worried at his bottom lip, slowly taking Jesse from Phichit. He let his fingers run through his son's hair, looking at Viktor from over Jesse's head. "Uncwe Chitty okay, Daddy?" Jesse asked innocently as Yuuri rocked him, letting his small hand wrap tight around Yuuiri's shirt. "Okay, Daddy?"

Yuuri nodded, pressing kisses against he warm head under his chin. "We're okay. Come on, let's put you in the stroller with your brother, okay?"

He didn't even wait for a protest as he strapped his son safely to the stroller, watching with a renewed sense of peace as Joey handed his brother a piece of crepe, which Jesse proceeded to happily munch on as he babbled at his brother.

Viktor looked down at the dog still grumbling under his arm and set Vicchan down.

"Yuuri, I," Viktor tried to explain himself, unsure exactly what he was trying to accomplish. "I was trying to look for you everywhere. I didn't know what to do. I was with my friends when he just hugged me by the Strawberry Farms and I freaked out, but I didn't have your number, so I just took them both and started running..."

"I believe you," Yuuri whispered, rubbing at his elbow. "I'm really sorry they keep doing this. I swear I've talked to them and they just--"

"Seem to have decided what they want," Viktor nodded, small smile dancing on his lips. "Maybe it's something we should discuss more at-length."

"Maybe," Phichit popped up between them, "you could start by exchanging numbers so if this ever happens again you can, I don't know, coordinate how to find each other?"

Viktor pulled out his cellphone quickly, practically ripping it from his pants pocket. He handed it over to Yuuri, "That doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually. It would save me running around the market trying to find you. Not that this would happen again. Hopefully. It's definitely dangerous."

"Yeah," Yuuri flushed red, taking the phone and starting to add his information, "this won't be happening again. I'm not leaving them out of my sight ever again after the scare Jesse just gave me. I'm just really grateful you found him."

"So," Viktor tried again, and Phichit watched as the handsome Russian brushed his shoe against the ground, still looking hopeful. It was like watching a romantic comedy. Phichit loved those, even if the industry had gone downhill fast in the last couple of years. "I really would like to get together at some point to discuss--"

"--Viktor, I really would like to," Yuuri cut him off. Phichit stepped closer into his space and received a glare for his efforts. "Keep an eye on the stroller, Daddy Chitty. You get one shot."

Viktor's face broke in horror, "You two?"

Phichit shook his head from behind Yuuri, "No. Nope. He's like my brother. We share an apartment. I know too much. But, seriously, no. All yours. But, seriously, take him, please. I swear if I listen to him wax poetically about the size of your hands and how many dog toys you can hold at once, I might burn down our storefront."

"Phichit!" Yuuri gasped, "I am so sorry about him, too."

"I'm not!" Viktor laughed, "Then? How about coffee? Coffee is safe, right?"

"It's not about you, Viktor. I'm at the store all day and in the evenings I give Phichit time off from the kids. I don't have time to go out alone. These two might as well be glued to me."

"Yuuri, I don't mind that at all. In fact," Viktor clasped his hands together, nodding vigorously, "let me take you three out to dinner. What do you say? You won't have to worry about a thing. I have a friend, who owns a little restaurant. He won't even mind that we're bringing along two babies."

"The twins are very quiet when they're eating," Phichit nods sagely, resting his chin on Yuuri's shoulder.

"I don't know," Yuuri mused, looking at his sons. "They're babies. They don't always behave. I don't want them to ruin your evening."

"I don't think that's possible, Yuuri," Viktor took his phone back slowly, slipping it back into his pocket. "Think about it? Let me know tonight?"

Yuuri nodded, "okay, sure. I'll let you know. I'll text you?"

Phichit nods decisively, winking at Viktor, "Don't worry. We'll call you for sure. We don't get many in the _Potential Daddy Shortlist_. Expect a call by COB."

"Phichit," Yuuri hissed, thoroughly embarrassed.

**TBC - Potentially. Maybe.**


	6. Date Night, Yuuri Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babies cry and make messes (and some of them don't appreciate clowns, even if they come bearing balloon animals). That shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, but that might not be enough consolation for Yuuri Katsuki, who is trying to survive a #DateDisaster. Phichit, velcro shoes were the least of all your worries.

Usually, Yuuri comes home from the store at 4:30 pm, leaving him with enough time to spend some hours with the twins before putting them to bed for a very strict 7:30 pm bedtime. Really, the twins should probably sleep earlier, but Yuuri enjoys the few hours he can spend with his boys in the evening (chasing them around the apartment and watching them cuddle with Vicchan) and makes up for the late time by being completely intractable about keeping to a schedule (which typically includes an hour after bedtime of Yuuri watching over his boys). Viktor accepted to eat dinner at 5:00 pm (and didn't show up to shop, making Yuuri's schedule just a little more settled), so Yuuri closes the store about ten minutes earlier than usual without his best customer around, rushing home with Vicchan grumbling only to find that Phichit has already taken care of the boys.

“Phichit, are they wearing ties?” Yuuri asks, dropping his keys by the front door table before rushing to strip off his jacket. Vicchan jumps on the sofa, peering at the television to ignore them all for the shenanigans happening on some veterinarian show on the Animal Planet network. When a shih tsu is rushed to emergency surgery, Vicchan whines, pressing both paws over his eyes, and Yuuri chooses that moment to change the channel to something more kid-friendly. 

The boys are wearing blue slacks, ties, and vests. They look adorable, but also completely annoyed, which isn’t a usual look for his babies. Jesse keeps testing the shoes by stomping his left foot (and whining when no lights turn on the soles), whereas Joey is on the floor, having resolved that he might as well crawl in hopes of appealing for a more comfortable onesie. He crawls his way to Vicchan, looking almost like a pudgy worm as he stretches out a hand, squealing, “Vicchan!”

“Off the floor, Joey,” Phichit sing-songs, plucking his nephew to sit by the dog, “Yes! I found clip-ons. Aren’t they adorable?”

“Phichit, I need them comfortable. I can’t have them stuffed like fancy burritos just before bedtime,” Yuuri sighs, already picking up Jesse to take him into the nursery. Jesse cheers, knowing well his moment of freedom is coming. He tangles his little hands into the tie, trying to pull. “Nope,” Yuuri corrects him, “that could choke you.”

“Don’t you dare put them in one of those ugly onesies! I can’t have you sending the JJs out into the world in pajamas, Yuuri. Reconsider,” Phichit wails behind his friend, grabbing the other twin to follow Yuuri into the nursery. Jesse stares at his uncle from the prison of his crib. “They could be going to dinner with their future Daddy. We want them to make a good impression. Remember what we discussed boys!”

“Now, maybe if we take off the vest?” Yuuri muses out-loud, completely ignoring Phichit as he turns progressively more pink.

“They need the vests,” Phichit advocates, rushing to deposit Joey next to his brother. “What if we changed the shoes?”

“Yes!” Jesse says, nodding vigorously. Joey is already rolling back, trying to pull of his own shoes as his twin says, “Pwease. Hug? Pwease, change shoes, I give hugs.”

Yuuri frowns, directing a glare at Phichit, “the shoes definitely go. I can’t believe I have my toddler trying to negotiate sneakers for hugs. That’s it. We’re going for the onesies.”

“Okay, okay,” Phichit takes in a deep breath, sliding around the room to block Yuuri’s access to the twins’ closet. “We change the shoes. We take off the vests, change the ties for clip-on bowties, and get their little fedoras. They’ll be perfect.”

“How about overalls and a nice long-sleeved cotton shirt?” Yuuri asks, already going for the brown corduroy overalls.

Phichit blanches, “I thought I burned that monstrosity. Corduroy is not something that should exist outside of the 1960s.”

“Great, then it’s a vintage look,” Yuuri teases. “You should love it.”

“How about some jeans and nice cotton shirts and the white sneakers?” Phichit tries, already rushing to pick up the items he needs.

“The ones with the Velcro?” Yuuri arches an eyebrow, dropping the clothes for the shoes. Joey makes grabby hands the moment he sees the Velcro shoe.

“You’re killing me here. Laces. Please. They’ll spend the whole dinner stripping the Velcro on and off.”

(The twins end up in a pair of khakis with comfortable long-sleeved cotton shirts. Phichit pouts the entire time as he helps Yuuri with the Velcro shoes. When Viktor comes to pick them up, Joey and Jesse cheer, stomping to show him how their shoes light-up, and Viktor – truly the epitome of perfection in a pair of fitted jeans (and god, Yuuri will have visions about that ass,) and button down and loafers – gives them amazed heart shaped smiles, clapping with the twin as the colors flash from blue to green to yellow and down the line-up of colors.

"Wow, amazing!" Viktor encourages them as the boys keep marching all over the room.

Vicchan simply glares at Viktor, digging at the corner of the sofa to nap.)

Mostly, Yuuri feels nervous about setting up the twins' car seats, so Phichit comes downstairs with him, telling him to relax and wait by the curb as he teaches Viktor step by step how to check for proper installation. Viktor drinks up every bit of knowledge with enthusiasm, excited to try it out with Joey, who goes willingly when Viktor asks to pick him up. It's surprising to Yuuri because usually the twins make a fuss about being strapped on their car seats, but this time Joey is surprisingly silent, kicking out his feet as he waits for his sibling to join him.

"That was easier than I expected," Yuuri tells Phichit. Most things that involve the twins and Viktor have been easier than expected in ways that continue to send Yuuri into a hurricane of doubt: Nothing is ever so easy, not with his sons. 

Phichit winks, "I had a little pep talk with the boys. They know they need to make a good impression if they want this to work."

"Phichit," Yuuri warns, but relents slowly as he slips into the passenger seat. "We'll see you in a couple of hours."

The ride is uneventful. The twins babble at each other in their personal language, which has Viktor intrigued as he tries to pretend he understands. It’s probably the first time Viktor has heard the twins not use words and, like most people in his position, decides that this must be the moment when the boys act like babies. Yuuri chuckles to himself. He’s wrong. The twins take their private chats very seriously, as in will-glare-on-interruption levels of serious.

"Oh, yes, so interesting," Viktor says, looking at the kids from the rear-view mirror. He uses the voice adults usually emphasize when talking to babies. "Do tell me more."

Jesse and Joey stop chattering to give him a surprisingly blank look of pure confusion. Yuuri studies his sons with an amused half-smile, admiring how in that moment they’re just big eyes and tiny lines for mouth, as if trying to determine if Viktor is, in fact, for _real_. Viktor is very much _for real_.  

“Daddy Vicchan,” Joey admonishes, frowning. “Rude!”

Next to him, Jesse just nods decisively.

“W—what?” Viktor gapes, amazed as the twins ignore him to return to their talk.

When Viktor stops talking and returns his eyes to the road, the twins start up again, and so the process goes, until Yuuri chuckles, resting a hand on Viktor's forearm. 

"Don't take it personally. They like to make a very clear statement that no one else understands their secret twin language except for them."

Viktor stops pouting, "What do you think they're saying?"

Yuuri shrugs, “I figure if they wanted me to know, they’d use words and tell me. I don’t worry too much about it. Nothing terrible has ever happened from twin babble, I promise. This is actually the calmest they’ve ever been in a car. When I drive, Phichit practically lives with his neck at a 40-degree angle trying to get them to settle.”

“I’m surprised,” Viktor confesses, “they seem like very calm babies.”

Yuuri laughs, “Joey and Jesse? _I’m_ surprised to hear you say that. They can be a real handful. That’s why I’m so disciplined about giving Phichit a break. By the end of the week, he’s desperate for a weekend out.”

“Daddy Vicchan,” Jesse calls, a teasing lilt to his baby voice. Yuuri turns to watch his son, whose eyes are shining with mischief. Viktor looks up, smiling, as Jesse says, “Bah beh la la la.” And Yuuri knows almost instinctively that Jesse is messing with Viktor, because he’s never heard his sons make that combination of sounds. The last syllable is stretched for a while.

Viktor arches an eyebrow, laughing, “I’m going to figure out what that means someday, solnyshko. Just you wait. I’m very good with languages.”

“No, Daddy Vicchan no know,” Joey gives him a toothy smile as the two babies fall into peals of laughter.

Yuuri shakes his head, giving Viktor a knowing look, “I told you. Handful. What is that you call them? Solyshka?”

“ _Solnyshko_ ,” Viktor repeats for him, “little sun. It’s Russian. I lived in Russia prior to coming to the States. I’ve spent enough time here now that half my life has almost been lived in each, or at least I have substantial memories of both. But I always seem to go back to Russian for the nicknames, probably for the versatility.”

“So-nyshi-go,” Jesse yells from the backseat, stretching his little arms.

“Yup, that’s you,” Viktor grins, and Yuuri’s stomach dips, because here is this gorgeous man who already seems to love his kids enough to call them little sun. (And isn't that a kicker, because the whole reason Yuuri had the twins was because he thought he woudn't ever meet anyone, much less someone tall and gorgeous and easygoing like Viktor.) “I know you keep saying they’re a handful, but I personally find it delightful. Never a boring moment, huh?”

“I guess so, if you like surprises,” Yuuri whispers shyly, pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He doesn't go into details about how surprises sometimes mean hamsters being snuck into cribs or Vicchan getting taken hostage for playtime, or how there's no sound more terrifying to Yuuri now than silence. 

“Oh, I love surprises!” Viktor confirms as he parks the car.

(Yuuri is amazed when they get to the restaurant.

It’s a nice Italian bistro with accessible food and a friendly atmosphere, quiet with outgoing staff and family-style servings (without even mentioning that it’s actually _family night_ ), which means Yuuri doesn’t have to worry much about finding his boys decent food or about them being the only babies in the restaurant. A couple of high-chairs are already waiting at their table with crayons and coloring pages. They are even able to order quickly: Some fizzy non-alcoholic lemonade drink and cheese sticks as an appetizer; Yuuri orders some pasta and meatballs for the boys; and happily takes Viktor’s recommendation for an entrée, even though Yuuri isn’t fond of lamb.

The date itself, though, is an absolute disaster. Ten minutes in, Viktor is already holding Yuuri's hand over the table (which is probably moving too fast, but Yuuri's been on a drought and he's not about to turn the tap off on a downpour). Yuuri is sipping his drink, making some funny joke (that's really not funny, but works as an excellent indicator that Viktor is  _totally_ into him, because only a smitten man could consider a joke about flying bagels any kind of funny). For once, the twins are fine, occupied munching their little cheese sticks with happy delighted sounds at the food. 

And then Yuuri watches in absolute mortification as the clown hired by the establishment for family night bumbles his way over to their table. He waves around some balloon animals, saying, “Hi kids!” It takes Joey but a minute to focus on the polka-dotted figure in front of him before he pouts, his chin wrinkling, and then Jesse starts them both off in a wail. The clown tries to offer them a blue and red giraffe each, but Joey simply shakes his head, crying as he says, “No, no, no! Daddy! Daddy Vicchan!” And, of course, Jesse follows along. 

Which is precisely how Viktor ends up with two babies on his lap, his arms clumsy as he tries to feed them both at once. His food is going cold in front of him. Yuuri dabs at his mouth, amused: “Need help?” he asks as he continues to cut through his lamb. (Each time he's asked, Viktor has said no, reminding him that he promised Yuuri he would handle everything. _This_ , though, does not look like  _handling things_.) It’s delicious - the lamb, not the sight of Viktor Nikiforov so easily slipping into their lives. Yuuri’d be happier if he stomach wasn’t churning with embarrassment. “I can take one. Or both.”

“No, no,” Jesse starts up again, threatening to sniffle as he pats at Viktor’s hand to hurry up with the food.

“It’s fine,” Viktor smiles, though Yuuri can read the terror in his eyes. Viktor has probably never fed a kid before, much less two. It's an art that comes with resignation to the will of the stain gods. His shirt also looks incredibly expensive and Joey appears to have decided Viktor is too slow against his fingers, which curl around a meatball to bring it to his mouth. He bites out a huge chunk, like an apple, and Yuuri winces as he watches tomato sauce slip between baby finger to what is almost certain to be Viktor’s pants.

“Uh-oh,” Joey says, looking down. Yuuri gasps when his son takes his dirty finger and pokes at his own mess. He looks at Viktor with an uncertain question in his eyes, “Oops!”

“Here, I can—let me, I can clean his hands,” Yuuri stands, already kneeling to grab for the nearest napkin. Joey watches as Yuuri cleans his hand. (Yuuri can almost certainly feel Viktor’s eyes boring into him, too, like he’s the only thing worth watching in that moment when his forearm barely grazes against his thigh, and he flushes bright pink as their eyes lock.) Jesse, meanwhile, keeps opening his mouth like a baby bird, making big ‘ah’ sounds to get Viktor’s attention. When he’s unsuccessful, he takes his own tomato-sauced hand to tug at Viktor’s pristine white shirt.

“Oh my gosh,” Yuuri blanches. “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning, I promise.”

“Oops,” Jesse declares, and then tries to bounce, “Daddy Vicchan, food pwease!”

And Yuuri thinks he might die from embarrassment, again.)

 **TBC**   

 


	7. Date Night, Viktor Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A panda has been snatched from the national zoo. It's just another news headline for Viktor, who is too busy worrying about potentially staying overnight at the Katsuki-Chulanont platonic residence after his first date with Yuuri. Except, Yuuri, as per usual, has a twist in store for Viktor. And where is Phichit? Has he gone to chase this story's actual plot line? Stay tuned!

 

Viktor finishes feeding the twins, trying not to pay attention to the stains bleeding through his favorite shirt. He keeps an unsteady smile on his face for Yuuri, knowing well this was his idea. The last thing he wants is to appear inexperienced, even though he’s never fed a baby before – and has obviously done it all wrong, if they go by the simple fact that Joey has spent the last two minutes snacking on a meatball like an apple and that Jesse’s diaper had to be changed because Viktor failed to help him hold the cup upright enough not to spill eight full ounces onto his khakis. Neither twin seems bothered.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri apologizes, stretching out a bite of his lamb for Viktor to take. Viktor stretches his neck to reach it with his teeth, touched that Yuuri has decided to move closer just to feed him. He watches Yuuri’s hands – his long, slender fingers – cut through the vegetables to offer him a piece of carrot. He takes it gratefully. “I told you they might ruin your evening.”

“You keep saying that, but they haven’t done anything of the sort. I’ll take a night with you three over eating alone any day,” he says.

Yuuri blushes, looking away, “You’re unreal sometimes, you know. Is there nothing that could potentially send you running in the opposite direction?”

Strangely enough, Viktor has already run through all the scenarios in his head. None of them, and especially not this, would make him run in the opposite direction – not when Jesse opens his mouth for Yuuri to feed him a little broccoli floret. Viktor has never wished he had thicker thighs to keep two babies more comfortably. His eyes fall a little below Yuuri’s belt, assessing that he does seem to have the perfect set of hips and thighs to keep two babies on each side.

“Nope,” Viktor grins, locking eyes with Yuuri, “I’m afraid you’re kind of stuck with me.”

(“Okay, so imagine the kid _pees_ on you. I’m not talking about in the diaper, but like on your favorite pair of Gucci wool mohair pants. Do you still love the kid?” Chris asks, driving them back from the market. Next to him, his boyfriend gasps, grasping the horror of the hypothetical with immediate concern. He turns to look at Viktor and Makkachin on the back seat, whispering in distress, “not the Gucci.”

Viktor clenches his jaw, surprised that the answer in his heart is _yes._ That has never happened before with Gucci. He nods vigorously, “I do.”

Chris slits his eyes in a glare, taking a long moment of silence before he says, “Fine. The twins think your precious Mac-baby is a toy and wreck it. Listen to my words very carefully, Nikiforov, they _wreck_ Eros beyond repair.”

“You named your laptop Eros?” Alex stretches his neck to give Viktor an accusatory and questioning look.

“It’s a sexy computer, okay?” Viktor sighs. His computer provides him with a living, or, well, his ability to code and the nights when he gets drunk enough to film himself doing it and stripping provide him with a generous paycheck every month. But he can’t possibly imagine life without his computer. He hasn’t upgraded yet for a reason, although he knows he’ll eventually have to – definitely sooner than the time it would take two precious babies to grow up and leave the nest, and their very sexy biological father behind. “I’d be mad. Then I’d probably get hugs and buy a new computer. Yeah, no, still love them.”

“I think you’re lying to yourself,” Chris shrugs, dropping him off in front of his apartment. “But you’ll learn soon enough, Viktor. Babies are challenging work, and after just a little taste of the full, inedited experience, you’ll come to your senses about the sneaky blanket burritos.”

“Not to mention,” Alex murmurs, cupping his hand over the side of his mouth like he’s got some huge, important secret, “they ruin your sex life, as in annihilate it. Like, they take their adorable light-up Velcro shoes and stomp on it until it is dead.”

Viktor gasps, “What?”

“Babies don’t sleep, Viktor,” Chris grins, proud that they’ve finally found something to get through to Viktor. “They’re like the energizer bunny – they keep going and going and going, which means so do you, but not in bed, like never in bed. Just go ahead and ask Mila and Sara. Their lives now are all Disney Junior on the television and five minute quickies in the laundry room during naptime. It’s depressing.”

Alex nods, “I don’t know how they live.”

Viktor thinks about this for a moment. He could live with that – coding in front of the television while the twins play with the dogs and watch Disney movies, or cooking them breakfast and giving Yuuri a good morning kiss before he goes to work at SSDHop, whose new online e-commerce platform he could easily manage. They could even both work together, allowing the kids to spend more time in the petshop and allowing Phichit to have more freedom as well.

“Still love them,” Viktor says, big smile on his face. “Even if they kill my sex life, considering right now I don’t have one anyway. I’ll take five minutes over zero any day, especially with Yuuri!”)

All the scenarios go out the window, again, when Jesse begins to yawn and decides he wants to find a spot on Viktor’s chest to sleep. Yuuri is just opening a straw to feed Viktor some water, when Viktor stops panicking about his shirt and, instead, grabs for the nearest clean cloth napkin to lay it out over his chest so the twins won’t get spaghetti sauce on their hair. Yuuri gives Viktor a soft, tender look, watching as his boys slowly yawn their way to slumber.

Viktor notices with amazement that the twins seem to have an adorable habit of cupping or pulling at their earlobe to fall asleep. His eyes track their every movement, as his arms settle around them securely. At this point, he has completely given up on food. When he feels their weight flat on his torso, he looks up at Yuuri, who makes a shushing motion before plucking one twin from Viktor’s arms.

“I think,” he says, bouncing Jesse expertly when the baby starts to whine. Yuuri looks strangely sheepish as he says, “maybe it’s time to take these two boys home. Maybe you’d like to come with us?”

Viktor nods, still holding onto Joey as he reaches for his wallet to pay their bill. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up: Maybe Yuuri really just means taking them home, as opposed to him just taking a taxi with the kids because the night has been such a disaster in his mind. But the gentle weight of the baby relaxes him, like he has something to anchor him, and he lets himself breathe in the smell of baby shampoo. It’s like taking a whiff of chamomile tea.

He realizes as Yuuri is helping him strap the kids into their car seats without waking them that nothing that Chris said and nothing that has happened tonight has unsettled him. He feels a sense of protectiveness sweep over him as he watches the boys from the rearview mirror, their little faces squished against the plush side of their seats.

“Yup, still love them,” he says to himself, turning on the car.

Yuuri blinks, looking up from his phone, “Sorry?”

“Nothing, I was just talking to myself,” Viktor whispers, chuckling.

“You don’t have to whisper. They’re pretty much out for the night. They’re really good about sleeping,” Yuuri grins, and somehow Viktor feels a strange dip in his stomach. Well, so much for babies never sleep.

(The ride back to Yuuri’s apartment is uneventful, if not quiet. Yuuri starts checking his phone and doesn’t bother to speak for the rest of the ride: “A panda has been abducted from the Smithsonian National Zoo,” Yuuri finally says, scrolling through his phone some more. “Pandas sell for a lot of money in the black market, either for exhibition outside of China, given their heavy control, or, worst, for their pelts,” he whispers, obvious concern seated at the dip of his brow, “I hope they find it soon.”

“How does one even steal a panda?” Viktor asks, completely shocked.

“The same way a lot of exotic animals are abducted,” Yuuri says, like it makes all the sense in the world. “Of course, the abduction of a famous exotic animal is certainly more expensive, but it’s still all horrible.”

“I agree with you,” Viktor nods, parking the car in front of the apartment complex. He doesn’t comment on the fact that Yuuri seems deeply affected by the plight of animals in captivity, considering that he owns a pet shop with an entire wall full of hamsters on display, and has made a fortune selling exotic animals to the stars. Somehow, Viktor doesn’t think that’s good end-of-date conversation. Wordlessly, he helps Yuuri scoop the twins out of their seats.

“I’ll come back to get the seats,” he says, trying to reassure Yuuri that he has no expectations.

The elevator ride is long, or it feels long, and when they reach Yuuri’s apartment, they shuffle by the door.

“So, maybe it wasn’t—”

Yuuri doesn’t let him finish, rising on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. Unfortunately for them, they don’t measure the distance quite right and the twins’ heads smack together, sending the toddlers into a set of sleepy whines that quickly dissipate back into sleepy murmurs and then silence. Viktor snorts, unsure if it’s okay to laugh, until Yuuri starts giggling. He fumbles with his keys, ushering them all inside.

“You weren’t kidding when you said they’re heavy sleepers,” Viktor teases. He makes it as far as the living room before Yuuri takes the second twin into his arms and balances them expertly. “You don’t want help?”

Yuuri shakes his head, smiling, “I’ve got them. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. There’s drinks in the kitchen – water, orange juice, milk, Pediasure, just lay off the apple juice boxes or else they’ll be cranky in the morning. I forgot to pick more up from the supermarket today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of taking their juice boxes,” Viktor laughs, pausing to rest a hand over each of the babies’ heads, “Night, JJs.”)

Viktor panics in silence for the full fifteen minutes it takes Yuuri to get his children in their pajamas and then tucked into their cribs for the night. He paces the living room, admiring the pictures littering every piece of furniture and wall, mostly of Phichit and his hamsters, Yuuri and his sons, and, of course, Vicchan, who has, once again, completely ignored Viktor for the comfort of his dog bed in the corner of the apartment. The dog sniffs the air before circling a few times and dropping back down and giving Viktor access to only his rump. It makes Viktor question what he ever did to insult the dog; typically, poodles were his specialty.

Yuuri comes back, drying his hands with a towel. He’s popped open the first couple of buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. Viktor has seen Yuuri’s forearms plenty of times, what with the SSDHop typical uniform of print polo shirt and faded jeans giving him easy access. But this feels different.

“So,” Yuuri smiles, running a hand through his slicked back hair, “apparently Phichit left me a note that he’s out for the rest of the night. Actually, it seems he’s out for the rest of the week. Some investors’ asked for an emergency meeting and he decided he might as well make some regional visits.”

Viktor nods, a knot forming in his throat.

“Oh,” he squeaks, more than says to his eternal embarrassment.

Yuuri looks down, his long eyelashes kissing his high cheekbones, and Viktor follows the motion with hunger. In his defense, he barely ate.

“Usually I don’t do this,” he says, almost breathless, “but, all things considered, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind. Maybe you can think of it like a favor, but I'd also be happy to pay you."

_A favor_? Viktor grows dizzy by the minute. In what planet does a gorgeous, single, rich entrepreneur invites a date to his apartment, puts his children to sleep (magical, wonderful babies that sleep through the night,) and assumes he has to ask for some nighttime fun as a favor, much less pay for it? – Viktor isn’t sure, but he will happily volunteer. He loosens his tie. Maybe this explains why Yuuri opted for a surrogate: His self-esteem may truly be on the floor, but it's something they can work on together.  _Together._ Viktor really was not expecting things to move so fast.

“See, my usual babysitters are out on travel, too,” Yuuri explains, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

Viktor arches an eyebrow, starting to get a little lost. Is he trying to apologize that the children will be in the apartment? Viktor can be quiet. 

“So I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking care of the twins during the day, just for this week?” Yuuri asks, hands clasped together. 

“Oh,” Viktor repeats, trying not to betray the fact that this was _not at all_ what he had expected. 

**TBC**

 

 

 


	8. Nanny Vicchan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor takes on his first day as Nanny Vicchan rather successfully. He's incredibly hopeful that, before long, his relationship with Yuuri might have more permanence, but Chris begins to (slowly) sow the seeds of curiosity. Why is Phichit away? And, more importantly, what project is Viktor working on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, fam, but here is the update. We're inching towards actual plot at a snail's pace, but soon. Soon! Apparently, my new rule is that I update at the speed of comment accumulation, which is a lame attempt at reminding you all that I am, in fact, a comment slut and do type faster when you leave behind your love (and thank you, THANK YOU, a million for having supported me with your comments so far). Ya'll are rock stars! Hugs from the JJs for all!

Viktor accepts and Yuuri stops by his apartment early the next morning with two sleepy twins barely holding onto their sippy cups. Jesse sways, strapped to the carrier. His head eventually plops right on his twin’s shoulder, and Joey complains about the weight, trying to push his brother’s head with an insistent little palm and an unhappy whine.

“Sorry,” Yuuri shakes his head, trying to get them settled. Viktor can only watch, amazed that he’s about to be responsible for two little boys for the entire workday. Makkachin paws over, trying to get some of Yuuri’s attention. Yuuri laughs, scratching behind Makkachin’s ears with gusto before moving the dog closer to the twins. Jesse isn’t having it, saying a tiny, “no,” before trying to pull his Spider-Man blanket over his head.

Next to him, Joey stretches out both arms, squealing, “Big Vicchan, big Vicchan!"

Makkachin rolls right into the toddler’s arms to lick at his face. 

Viktor laughs, “Jesse doesn’t like mornings, huh?”

“He’s particular,” Yuuri sighs, turning to face Viktor. When he stands, Viktor notices they’re only a couple of steps away from each other. All he would have to do is take on long stride to bring Yuuri’s face into his hands. “Uh, thanks again,” Yuuri shuffles his hands. He starts, pulling a piece of paper from his jacket, “I know you have my cellphone, but here’s the different numbers for the store, too. And I didn’t have time to make them lunch, so here’s some money, too, for a pizza or anything you’d like to get them. They’re not picky about food.”

Viktor stares at the bills in his hand and shakes his head, trying to stuff them back in Yuuri’s pocket.

“No way,” he says, “I’ll probably just bug Chris for lunch anyway. If they’re not picky or have any allergies, then we should be fine!”

 Yuuri stares helplessly, “A—are you sure? I don’t want to impose on you.”

 “Nonsense!” Viktor grins, already reaching for Jesse to pluck him from his carrier. Jesse goes willingly, but holds tight to the blanket to use as a pillow over Viktor’s shoulder. “I’m happy to have them. Have a good day at work, okay?” —And, without thinking, Viktor reaches down and brushes their lips together when he notices that Yuuri is getting on his tip-toes. Yuuri’s eyes stare back, wide and exposed, shell shocked.

 “Oh,” he whispers, “I was trying to give Jesse (and Viktor panics internally with the realization that he just attacked Yuuri mid-way to giving his son a goodbye kiss)—I mean, thank you. I’ll, uh, see you later.”

 Viktor doesn’t even bother apologizing, watching Yuuri take unsteady steps to Joey and then to the door. Joey presses his little hands against Yuuri’s cheeks, squishing, as he says, “Daddy, fishy lips!”

 But when Yuuri whirls around and marches up to him, Viktor steels himself. He feels an insistent, strong palm in the back of his neck before he’s pulled down into the sweetest, most natural kiss. He has to remind himself that he has a half-asleep baby in his arms, but kissing Yuuri in the middle of his living room feels like a vision, like a promise that if he wants this bad enough (and he does,) then he can have this forever. And he does want it, forever. Yuuri draws away first, his eyes hazy as they barely register him from behind thick glasses, and Viktor can’t help but peck his lips again. Yuuri laughs, taking more steps back.

 “I need to go open the store,” he says, slowly inching away. Yuuri smacks against the wall and bounces back, blinking bleary at the door just next to it. _Well, I guess we’re both nervous and a little hot_ , Viktor thinks, feeling slightly better.  

 “I’ll have dinner for you,” Viktor tells him, breathless. He feels almost like a housewife from the 1940s, waving her husband off to work. He doesn’t exactly mind the idea, not when it implies Yuuri could become his husband. In his arms, Jesse starts to stir, like he’s only finally realizing that he’s not at home and not with Yuuri. Jesse’s head snaps up under the blanket, looking like a mole stuck under a bed of soil. Viktor chuckles, pulling the blanket off to give him a smile before he cries. “Hey Jesse,” he whispers, bouncing him gently.

 Jesse visibly relaxes, dropping his head back down, “Daddy Vicchan.”

 Viktor nods, walking him back over to his twin, “Yup. It’s Daddy Vicchan. Come on guys, let’s get you settled somewhere comfy while I make plans for work and to meet up with your Uncle Chris, okay?”

 (They get settled quickly, one twin on each side of Viktor and Makkachin. Viktor puts up a bunch of pillows on the sofa for the twins before turning on Sesame Street and bringing his laptop to the living room. Joey tangles his fingers in Makkachin’s fur, deciding that the dog is soft enough to act as a makeshift pillow. Gently, he settles on his side, laying his head on Makkachin’s flank. Viktor watches amazed as Joey tries to make little barking noises, pretending he’s Makkachin’s puppy. Makkachin doesn’t even seem to mind, happy to lick the baby’s face, pushing his bangs back like she’s trying to groom him.

 Jesse, ever curious, inches close to Viktor, deciding that his hand should just smash all the keys to help him work faster. Viktor watches, alarmed, as his entire code goes from neat and tidy to a series of unnecessary numbers and random assortments of letters, but Jesse is so proud, he doesn’t bother saying anything other than “good job!” – By the fifth time, though, Viktor’s starting to fear he’s not going to get any work done that day. He’s allowed to telework some weeks, but he still needs to provide, at least, some prove of work by the end of the day. His team is counting on him.  

Jesse claps, giving Viktor a toothy grin, “Yay!”

“You want to help?” Viktor asks, deleting all the garbled key smashes.

“Yes! I help, pwease,” Jesse says, little eyes shining as he shimmies closer. Before he can smash the keys again, Viktor shakes his head and he pauses, staring surprised. It’s probably the first time Viktor has said no. “No help?”

“Yes help,” Viktor smiles, “I’m going to point to a key and you’re going to press it. And together we’re going to build something, okay? – But it’s a game, so you have to remember the order of the keys, okay?”

“Okay!” Jesse nods, stretching his arms high up over his head

Within minutes, he has both twins enthralled, competing against each other to remember the order of the keys Viktor has been pointing out for them. It makes his work take longer than usual, but he takes advantage of the kids looking so entertained to take a couple of pictures and send them to Christophe, who calls within seconds. The twins pause when they hear the phone ring, and Viktor closes the laptop, ushering them to keep watching television for a moment. “We’re going on a fieldtrip,” he tells them, picking up the phone and walking to the kitchen to refill the sippy cups with apple juice. “This is Vitya,” he answers, smile already big and shiny as he balances the phone on his shoulder.

“You know I’m not calling you that. It sounds more like the name you’d give a porn star. Now, tell me, did you kidnap the Katsuki twins for real this time?” he whispers horrified. Viktor can almost imagine him hiding behind his sofa, cupping the receiver to ensure no one can listen in. “No, wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to become an accomplice!”

“What? No. I’m their babysitter for the week,” Vikor says proudly. He walks back to the living room with two sippy cups, handing one to each of the boys. “More importantly, though, I need you to come over and start planning this nursery, and I’m not paying for the rush order fee because I _told_ you they’d need it. They’re here now with nowhere to be other than the living room sofa. It’s tragic, Chris. They’re going to have to nap on my bed, instead of a quiet sky-blue room with clouds and happy poodles on the walls and custom furniture from Pottery Barn for Kids.”

“And hammies!” Jesse chirps, standing up on the sofa.

“And hammies, I mean hamsters,” Viktor corrects, nodding decisively as he fluffs Jesse’s hair.

“Are you seriously planning a nursery with the sneaky blanket burritos?” Chris sounds doubly horrified now. “Okay, Viktor, look, I didn’t want to do this, but this is an intervention.”

“Great,” Viktor picks up Joey when the baby lifts his arms. He carries him as he paces the length of the living room. “We’ll see you in twenty minutes then? I just need to get the kids set up in my car and we’ll be right over.”

“What?” Chris squeaks, “No! Viktor, don’t you dare bring them. My home is a kid-free sanctuary. No shoes, no shirt, no kids for service! I will litter the entire living room with my favorite sex toys. Don’t believe me? I’m not afraid to use a giant pink dildo!”

“Alex wouldn’t let you do that,” Viktor rolls his eyes, already strapping Joey back into the carrier.

“Alex isn’t here,” Chris tells him.

“Chris, I told you that I don’t want to know about whatever experimentation you get up to when he’s gone. This conversation does not count as an exception; if anything, I’m perturbed. Now, put away the pink _thing_ —”

“They’re changing you already,” Chris sobs, “you can’t even say the d-word!”

“They’re not changing me,” Viktor rolls his eyes, “I’ve always known what’s considered unacceptable language to use around babies. Now, I’m bringing them and Makkachin, so cook something yummy or order takeout. We need to strategize on this nursery. Yuuri made promises today.”

“What type of promises?”

“The type you make with your mouth about a future together. Or potential fun, private time.”

“Oh,” Chris gasps in the way he tends to when he’s exposed to the prospect of free tea. Viktor is ready to spill, too. “I’ll make some shandy!”

“No alcohol, Chris.”

“It’s more soda than beer, though. It doesn’t count. Besides, if I’m not allowed to make us a shandy, you’re not allowed to bring burritos. It’s insulting enough that I have to break my own rules for you before they even become my official nephews.”

Viktor grabs for Jesse, sighing, “fine.”)

The ride to Chris’ house is amazing. Viktor’s convertible was manufactured for beautiful sunny days and the twins are plenty happy in the car seats, stretching out their arms to touch the sky as they cruise down to a little nondescript coffee shop where Viktor can order a couple of raspberry lemonades for their sippy cups and vanilla bean scones. Along the way, he makes a quick stop in front of SSDHop, honking twice before Yuuri peeks out with a smile so bright, it rivals the sun. The synth electro-bass of Yelle’s _Je Veux Te Voir_ (c’est quoi ta position favorite, tes performances olympiques, mais tu n’as rien d’orgasmique) blasting loud, making the twins kick their legs happily to the beat of a song that would be unacceptable to play for them if it wasn’t in French.

“Viktor,” Yuuri leans on the edge of the passenger seat, surprised when he’s handed the lemonade, “hi babies.”

“Hi Daddy!” Joey waves.

“ _Ta, ta, ta_ , hi Daddy! _Ta, ta_ ,” Jesse keeps pretending to sing to the beat of the song, and Viktor freezes, concerned that he has just exposed his future sons to naughty French vocabulary by accident. Makkachin comes to the rescue by licking Jesse’s face to keep him from singing, and then there’s just happy squealing and calls for _Big Vicchan_.

“We’re taking a fun little field trip over to Chris’ house for lunch,” Viktor beams, “but I figured you’d want to say hello and maybe get something refreshing.”

“This was very thoughtful,” Yuuri bites his bottom lip, and Viktor watches the play by play in absolute fascination. He’d never found forearms so sexy before meeting Yuuri Katsuki. A part of him feels like he’s stuck in some badly written Victorian romance, sighing over ankles. (Yuuri is wearing a pair of snug pants that show off his ankles, which are, in fact, very nice.) “I’ll have to thank you properly later.”

“You could thank me now,” he flirts back, taking off his shades ( _Ouais on va aux Chippendales_ , the stereo plays).

Yuuri leans back, shocked, “Did that just say…”

Viktor turns off the CD player, flustered as he tries to excuse the song with a shrug and a simple, “Oh, radio. Better turn that off.”

Yuuri nods, furrowing his brows, but he sees that his sons are happy with little crumbs of something yummy around their mouths. Viktor feels secure in the knowledge that Yuuri isn’t about to hold it against him. So, instead, Yuuri clears his throat and says, “I should go back to work. But I’ll see you in some hours. Bye, boys. Be good for Uncle Vicchan, okay?”

Jesse frowns, shaking his sippy cup violently, “ _Daddy_ Vicchan!”

“We should go,” Viktor laughs nervously, “Have a good day at work. Bye, Yuuri.”

(Chris welcomes him begrudgingly and immediately lectures the twins on acceptable baby areas. To Viktor’s relief, there’s nothing questionable in sight. Makkachin finds a corner and plops down, knowing well that Chris’ house is cat territory. The cat hides in Chris’ room, not even daring to say hello to two excitable toddlers as they march around Chris’ velvet sofa in their socks.

Once Sesame Street comes on, though, there’s not even a peep that comes from the twins, who seem to stare at Elmo with the same intensity that Viktor looks at a bottle of wine after a long day at work. Chris hands him a glass with some shandy and they sit on another sofa.

“So, how are you swinging this super long telework vacation with the boss? I thought you said your boss was super traditional and a huge stickler for this project’s timeline,” Chris asks him, leaning his elbow on the back of the sofa.

“I told him I was doing a foster-to-adopt week and needed to be home,” Viktor shrugs. “We’re on schedule with the app, and he seems happy with our progress. Besides, I’ll probably have to go in at some point this week, but I’ll just bring the twins so he’ll see I wasn’t lying and it’ll be fine.”

“Hm,” Chris scoffs, “for sneaky blanket burritos, they’re pretty well-trained and fashionable.”

“Apparently Phichit left instructions on their weekly outfits.”

Chris frowns, “did Yuuri say what was so important that his roommate and platonic partner suddenly up and left so irresponsibly? Doesn’t sound like someone that cares enough about two little boys to raise them to just leave them.”

“He didn’t say anything,” Viktor sighs, setting his drink on the nearest corner table. “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom for a second, okay? I haven’t been able to go with them. I don’t know how well they do without supervision for some minutes.”

“Oh no!” Chris shakes his head, “Viktor, no. I can’t. No.”

“Oh, come on,” Viktor laughs, shaking his head as he makes his way to the hallway. “You’ll be fine! They’re busy with Elmo.”

“Viktor,” Chris squeals, holding tight to his drink. He almost tries to jump over the back of the sofa to pull Viktor back, but he’s unsuccessful. When he hears the door close, he turns to the twins, who seem to be staring right back at him. Nervously, he downs his drink, “look at the tv. There is nothing to see here.”

“Dance?” Jesse says, shimmying as his brother does a jump twirl.

“No, no,” Chris shakes his head, before his eyes fall on the screen, “I don’t dance to Elmo. Oh my god, is that Usher?”

(Alex comes home and finds Chris dancing with two toddlers in the middle of the living room to Usher’s Alphabet Song from Sesame Street. The television seems to be on pause on another Sesame Street-themed movie. But the toddlers are having the time of their lives. Alex doesn’t even bother closing the door as he leans against the door frame, watching his boyfriend, the self-identified anti-baby crusader, pick up one of the kids and bounce him in his arms. 

Viktor walks out of the bathroom, laughing as he says, “See? I told you that you’d be fine! You’re great with them.”

Joey comes over to Viktor, raising his arms, “Daddy Vicchan! Look!”

Chris and Viktor look to the door, where Alex is still trying to hold back his laughter. Alex can pinpoint the exact moment when Chris freezes, unsure whether to set Jesse down on the ground. He walks over to his boyfriend, giving him a teasing smile as he says, “so, sneaky blanket burritos, huh?”

Chris holds tight to the baby, sniffing as he tells Alex, “I don’t owe you an explanation. Lunch is ready.”)

**TBC**


	9. Intermission (with Phichit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first intermission, or the exceedingly short chapter in which we're finally introduced to Phichit's whereabouts and begin to unravel Yuuri's role in the future salvation of pandas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for your support and patience! :) More regular updates coming now that the crazy summer is done.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr: CuttleMeFishWrites.tumblr.com.
> 
>  **Also, two wonderful people drew the JJs!! Check out their art:**  
>  https://sodzi.tumblr.com/post/163639054803/fanart-of-the-katsuki-twins-for-the-best  
> https://lost-my-v.tumblr.com/post/163051902584/baby-im-preying-on-you-tonight-by-cuttlemefish

Here’s the thing: Phichit doesn’t _plan_ on getting a hot tip that the pandas are on the move just at the same time as he’s tucking two babies into their cribs and his best friend is out in the middle of the first date he’s had in close to a decade – which is a massive exaggeration. But, in his defense, Phichit  _knew_ Yuuri would be coming home soon and, more importantly, figured Viktor Nikiforov (SSDHop's most valuable customer) would naturally be persuaded to take care of two adorable baby boys (because he was desperate and Phichit could recognize thirst with the same amused detachment an oasis held for people lost in a desert.)

He’d been tracking the sudden disappearance of pandas for weeks, just at the same time as he’d been hearing more rumors from the deep web that a company had hired a group of highly accomplished, speed coders to work on an interesting project.

“It’s an app,” he’d been told, “it’s supposed to offer nature lovers complete, 24/7 access to some of the most majestic creatures in the world, but I have a tip that they’re also purchasing a lot of land, mostly large, flat, one-story buildings, and a buddy was just telling me that he’s seen a spike in the demand for exotics for some of these locations.”

And that had, naturally, peaked Phichit’s interest, because setting up cameras in the wild – like the middle of nowhere Guyana to catch a glimpse of baby jaguars – didn’t provide for the type of production value described by his contact, not on a tight budget (stunningly functional website be damned, lies were lies). So, the moment the pandas went missing? – That was the moment Phichit knew: Of course, it was easy to give 24/7 access to people at a fraction of the usual cost if the company could just get the animals right in front of the camera every single time. The only way to do that was to keep the animals in an enclosed, protected facility, somewhere that could easily act as both secret zoo and filming facility.

“Okay, so you found the panda,” Yuuri repeats, blinking owlishly in the backroom of the shop after chastising Phichit for leaving the twins unaccompanied. He hasn’t even bothered to open the store yet, even if the animals are all finally fed.

“Sort of?” Phichit whispers. “I found pandas. Like, so many of them, Yuuri – different ages and sizes. I don’t know if I found the right panda, though. That’s sort of my problem now. They all look the same? Seriously, now I understand what people mean when they say ‘see one hamster, you’ve seem them all,’ only, of course, that’s preposterous and only a monster would say that. But if they said it about pandas? I mean, yes, absolutely. You see one panda, you’ve seen them all.”

“How many pandas are we talking about?” Yuuri holds tight to his mug of tea, trying to remain calm as he takes a small sip. Phichit knows, though, that his friend’s eye is a minute away from twitching. He’s almost afraid to tell him.

“Like, six?”

“Six pandas out of the 279 in captivity?” Yuuri lets out a low whistle. He sets his mug down on the coffee table, reaching for his laptop to set it on his lap. “I think your best bet is to report this to the authorities, Peach. I don’t think there’s any way you can get those little guys back without anyone catching you. They’re, uh, heavy.”

“And conspicuous as fuck. Have you ever heard a panda cub? They make this loud, squeaky whine, like _eeee!_ Meanwhile, I’m just sitting there, dressed in a panda costume, trying to feed it, like, yes, okay, got it, I’m not the momma, but do you have to make sounds that make my heart melt? It’s not the time when I’m trying to rescue you,” Phichit scoffs, trying to look like he’s _not_ enjoying being surrounded by sleeping pandas while dressed in a panda costume. “The security here is also super tight. I know the guy in charge of the cameras mostly sleeps and is partially deaf, but the big guys by the door are something else.”

“Phichit, you’re going to need to call the police. There is no way you’re doing this one alone,” Yuuri reminds him, worrying at his bottom lip.

Phichit nods, “I know! That’s why I’m calling!”

Yuuri arches an eyebrow, confused as he crosses his arms, “no. Phichit, no. It’s bad enough you have me dealing with the twins alone during mid-year inventory, but the fact that you even considered asking after leaving Jesse and Joey—”

“But this one’s easy!” Phichit grins, “all you need to do is report for work on Thursday. Sending you details now. And besides, you said their Daddy Vicchan was taking care of them.”

“Not funny.”

“It’s great!”

Yuuri reads Phichit’s message carefully before giving him a deadpan look: “You want me to infiltrate a company as a secretary?”

“Personal assistant,” Phichit corrects. “See, it’s harmless.”

“You’re expecting me to get potentially secret, highly classified commercial intelligence as a secretary?” Yuuri repeats, accentuating each word carefully.

“Personal assistant,” Phichit sighs, “to the CEO of this company. See? It’s not so bad.”

“For how long?”

“For, like, a week? I’ll be back soon enough,” Phichit shrugs. “Might need you in there longer, depending on how much information we can gather, but I’ll be back by then so you don’t have to worry about the twins. Or the store. I can take on the store for a bit.”

Yuuri considers it for a moment. Phichit can tell when his best friend is mulling over information, digesting it with the same focus as he would a meal. It’s a pursed-lip look, like Yuuri’s one step away from kissing air or cursing it. It wouldn’t be the first time Yuuri has cursed oxygen for keeping him alive long enough to keep falling into the trap of following another one of Phichit’s crazy plans.

Phichit gives his friend his best begging eyes, learned from watching Vicchan during dinner.

“Fine,” Yuuri sighs, “I’m going to regret this, but I’m going to do it.”

“Yes, Yuuri! Thank you! I knew you—”

“For the pandas.”

“Sure, of course. Want more pictures of the cub?” Phichit grins brightly, offering to point the phone camera in the direction of the smallest bear. “I’ve named him Cutesudon. Like katsudon, only cute.”

“I’m not even going to try to make sense of that one,” Yuuri shakes his head, “I need to go open the store.”

“Oh? Trying to close up early to get home to the future husband and babies?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, but Phichit knows his friend can barely restrain himself from smiling.

“I was trying,” Yuuri says, looking only marginally embarrassed. The flush of his ballooned cheeks looks more like anger than shyness. “But now I’m opening the store late so who knows what time I can get to Viktor’s for dinner.”

“Dinner?!” Phichit gasps, sitting up. Next to him, a panda stirs and tries to roll, sending Phichit scrambling to crawl away. “Dinner?” he repeats, more quietly this time. “Wow, Yuuri. Family dinners already?”

“I’m hanging up on you,” Yuuri warns, waving goodbye.

Phichit pouts as the entire screen goes black.

**TBC**


End file.
